Harmony
by TheTBone
Summary: 'Pageantry' sequel. They finally have the lives they've always wanted, but when faced with a case hit too close to home, will Olivia and Erin be able to win the struggle to find the truth, to find a balance, and to stay alive?
1. Arrival

**I'd tell you I owned SVU, but I'm under oath right now…**

Erin really liked airplanes, she decided.

She figured it made sense. She had always liked the sky, actually. She was always captured by watching it change colors from a royal, pure, cold blue to a fierce, searing, deep crimson. In the evening its rays radiated and lit up the dome of a sky with colors and painted the entire canvas rainbow. Though, she supposed it would be more like a dry erase board, since it was wiped clean every day and given new and fascinating patterns. She would consider herself to be an artistic type of person, so she latched onto those colors.

She guessed that the rainbow thing happened in the morning too with sunrises, but she would never be bothered to wake up and see them. Even her morning runs didn't start that early. She'd always been a night owl.

She liked the bodies in the sky too, day or night. She was always fascinated by how the clouds could look so puffy and solid from the ground, yet she could fly right through them. The clouds wove each other in various patterns to entertain those below with its various and often debatable shapes. People could spy them anywhere, while having a picnic or looking through a window while uninterested at work or in class. They were just little gas particles answering to the beck and call of every bored person, hooking to one another to form something different, something whole.

At least she thought that's how clouds formed. Like she said, she spent too much time looking out the window in Chemistry class to know the exact breeding grounds of a cloud.

Erin was snapped out of this random mind-rampage when she heard the deep-voiced, British pilot over the intercom, silently taking a brief moment to laugh at the coincidence of the origins of the person flying the plane. She remembered telling Olivia in the hospital a couple months ago about how she was moving to Houston, England. She wasn't even sure if there was such a place, but found it humorous nonetheless that she was returning from a Houston of different sorts in Texas.

She had made the executive decision to spend the summer in the Southern part of the US with her father and brothers to help them settle into their new home. She helped them unpack, and it was nice to be with the people she'd grown up with, but stepping out at the New York airport, she knew she was rightfully back home. Her home. Her life was in the city. As much as she loved getting tan and eating some insanely spicy and delicious salsa and chips on the border, she preferred the insanely snowy winters and living off hot dog street vendors and family-owned pizza joints. This was where she was meant to be.

Besides her love affair with snow and unhealthy dietary habits, she was glad to be back for a bigger reason. Well, four bigger reasons to be specific. Not to rag on her father and brothers (which she wouldn't considering she honestly did love them with all of her heart), she had missed four people in particular. And besides one week she had to fly back to testify in the Jones' case, she hadn't seen them all summer. Sure, they'd texted, but they'd all been busy with their own things over the summer. Olivia and Elliot had more cases than ever, Delilah was always going off to pool parties and pageant gatherings, and Chris had gotten a summer job. It was hectic, and honestly, she'd missed the unique chaos that enveloped that bunch.

Grabbing her luggage off the conveyor belt snaking around the waiting area, she pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead and went in search of Olivia. She didn't immediately see her, which she thought was odd. Olivia was always the type of person to be punctual.

She glanced around the food court, and stood on her tip-toes to sneak a peek deeper in the gift shop. Nada. Maybe she was in the restroom or something, Erin figured, and found refuge sitting on a bench. She wasn't feeling too badly yet, but knew she would feel tired later. She never quite understood how you could get jetlag from simply sitting in a plane. Shouldn't you feel more energized after lounging lazily and being waited on hand and foot?

Again, her random thoughts were interrupted by her mouth and eyes being covered from behind. Feeling her heart leap out of her chest, she organized a quick plan of action in her brain. She figured that the hand didn't feel that large, and that she could slightly feel fingernails, indicating the perp was most likely a woman. She decided her best plan of action would be to quickly whip around on the metal bench and prepare to punch, cover or grab, meanwhile preparing to jump over the bench and kick if need be. She didn't want to draw too much attention in case this could turn into a mass hostage situation.

Frantically counting herself down until action she rapidly twisted herself, surprised there was no immediate retaliation from the mysterious person when she moved. Moving her eyes upward quickly to identify the person, for a future lawsuit and in order to plan and make her next more, she was faced with a pair of dark brown eyes.

"Are you kidding me right now, Olivia?" Erin demanded, clutching her chest with her hand, still feeling the hard, quick thumping of her heart and slight shaking of her hands. "Are you trying to kill me?" She prompted again.

"Just wanted to see if you're still as good as you were. I think it's safe to stay you still got it," she said smiling and laughing a little at the unnecessary panicked reaction, nudging Erin in the side.

"Yeah, well regardless of your intentions, which was executed in a rather cruel fashion might I add, it still wasn't nice," Erin said defensively, turning around and crossing her arms in a petulant child-like manner.

"Sorry about that. Will coffee make it better?" She asked, moving around to look at her face, bending ever so slightly to get on Erin's level. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd grown in the last few months. She could've sworn she was only up to here last time she saw her. Oh my God, she was turning into one of those annoying old people at family reunions. She was glad she didn't share this thought out loud, for it would have faced endless ridicule in the dangerous, mocking hands of Erin.

Erin raised an eyebrow at this proposal. "What kind of coffee is it?"

"Vanilla latte no whipped cream, extra vanilla, milk skim, extra hot from the Starbuck's right," she pointed at a green and crème building "over there," Olivia finished the recitation flawlessly.

"Hm," Erin considered, "I'll taste it and consider if I can ever forgive you for making me so frightened I'm surprised my heart is still in its rightful place and not in my throat."

"Any chance you could spare a hug before pondering this life-altering decision?"

"I'd say it's a good possibility," Erin replied, finishing her sentence as they were actually embracing.

"I've missed you, kid," Olivia said into Erin's hair.

"I've missed you too," Erin replied, and Olivia pulled back, smiling and looking the girl over.

"Well," she said about an arms-length apart, her hands on Erin's shoulders, secretly examining her height. Yes, she was definitely taller. "You look good."

Erin nodded and let out a laugh of her own.

Olivia raised her eyebrows and laughed too in innocence. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just 'you look good.' That's a phrase I normally associate with people who dated all through high school and are now really awkward together. In a situation, say, when they're the only ones placed by the punch bowl at a class reunion."

"What, would you rather I say 'gosh, you look terrible?'"

"No. I wouldn't want you to lie."

"Is it possible that you're even more annoyingly sarcastic than when I left you?"

"You'd better believe it. We're still at the airport, you want to return me? I'm refundable until we pull out of the parking lot."

"No, I guess I'll just be stuck with you. Plus, if you left, I'd have to buy you plane ticket home, and airlines charge a lot. You'd get to be very expensive. And if you live with me, you're also a tax deduction, so I figure the pros outweigh the cons."

"Well, we'll see how you feel in a few days. I bet you you'll be paying to get rid of me. You know, when you'll start to hear me and my snarky remarks in your dreams."

"Nightmares, you mean?"

"It doesn't matter. My presence is a dream come true. And lucky for you, I'm your new reality."

"Joy," Olivia said rolling her eyes in a sarcastic motion, but behind those pupils she was deathly serious. She was glad to be going home with the rest of her family.

SVU

Olivia crocked her elbow up from the steering wheel for her arm to cover yet another yawn. It was five o'clock in the evening, the absolute worst time for traffic, and a drive from the airport that should have only taken about an hour, was pushing three. The interstate was an absolute bear, and the horns and yelling were getting under Olivia's skin. Of course, this probably wouldn't be a problem unless you factored in the fact that she hadn't gotten a lot of sleep in the past couple of days.

There had been a big break on a long, grueling case, one that required all of the 1-6 to team up and work together for several nights. It wasn't like Olivia hadn't pulled one or two or dozens all-nighters, but this one was different. This time she had something else to worry about, and honestly, she had no idea how Elliot had done it for all of these years.

This was the first really big case since she'd adopted Delilah. Sweet, troubled Delilah who Olivia figured out was as lovable as she was mischievous. It wasn't that she was a bad kid, not at all, but she was lost. She had some anxiety and self-esteem issues, which Olivia figured was completely understandable considering her past. It seemed as if she was healing though, slowly but surely. This summer had been a big step for Delilah, Olivia could tell. Even though she hadn't known the girl her entire life, she could tell that she was slowly coaxing her out of her shell. She was being nurturing, something Delilah seemed puzzled by at first, but quickly latched on to and took advantage of it, along with other things. She had everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Literally everyone.

This summer had been a big step not only for Delilah, but for Olivia as well.

Now Olivia had never intentionally been anti-social, it was just that she was always so career-driven and stubborn that she never really went out, and had only close acquaintances, not really anyone she could call a friend per say. She had been loosening up a bit, going out with some co-workers for reasons other than business. She had gone out for a girls' night to the movies with Alex, she'd been out to dinner with Huang, and she'd even went to Melinda's niece's birthday party. She'd actually permeated friendships. The pageant experience had changed her in many ways. She learned there was more to life than just work, and as much as she still loved and valued it, she learned that there was still light in the world she saw sometimes as only a dark place.

Besides just gaining some friends, she'd also gained some knowledge, and interesting relationships. She never thought of Casey Novak as really a people person. She'd admit they'd had their ups and downs. And she won't lie, the first impression of her was a snarky little ginger with sarcasm and a major chip on her shoulder. But their relationship had grown from coffee and drinks a couple times of month to more like sisters.

It started on a night where Olivia had gotten a call at three in the morning. It was an important lead, and it couldn't wait until later. Helplessly, she racked her brain for what she could do with Delilah. She considered dropping her off at the Stabler, well-Stabler minus Elliot- residence, she decided against it considering the awkwardness that would no doubt ensue. She and Kathy had always been neutral forces, they were never BFF's, but they never exactly despised each other either. They just danced around each other when need be.

Seeing no other plausible option, she attempted to call Alex, who she'd always been closer to, only to no avail considering Alex was visiting family in Chicago that weekend. The one weekend she decides to take off, and it just happens to be the time Olivia needs her. Reluctantly she picked up the phone and called Casey if she could drive over quickly. Surprisingly, there were only a few snappy replies and limited strings of cursing, and Novak complied in all of her pajama glory. When Olivia returned in the morning, she was a bit shocked to see Casey and Delilah at the table, spoons in hand and cereal bowls in front of them, talking and laughing together.

Casey and Delilah had grown surprisingly close. Thinking this an odd couple, Olivia was at first rendered speechless, but then decided to let it go, thinking about how Delilah could use another influence in her life instead of simply her sole provider. She decided not to disturb the interesting bond and take a step back and let things work out.

And that wasn't the only relationship she'd done this with.

Not only had Olivia gained some female friends, but also gotten a little closer with some of her male ones.

They were taking it slow of course. It'd been over ten years, an entire decade, why rush it now? And with Olivia starting her family and Elliot struggling to keep his above water, they were each dealing with their own demons and attempting to fight their own battles. However, that didn't mean they totally ignored each other. They had been to dinner a few times, gone to the movies, taken some walks. Again, they were taking it slow, but to say the least they were both very satisfied with the good, albeit a little bit sluggish, progress.

"Olivia?" Erin questioned, snapping Olivia out of her haze of reflection over the summer months.

"Yeah?" She glanced over at the teen in the passenger's seat.

"You look…exhausted."

"Yeah, well," she said, pausing to yawn, "I am a little tired."

"No seriously, when's the last time you slept, you look like you're about to crash."

"Why do you suddenly care so much about my sleeping habits?"

"Because if you crash, the car crashes, and by default I crash, which I don't really think sounds like the way I'd choose to spend my Sunday afternoon. Do you want me to drive?"

"What?" Olivia said with a smirk.

"I asked if you wanted me to drive," Erin defended, irked by the sarcasm, and knowing Olivia had heard her clearly the first time.

"Um, no."

"Why not? I have my permit."

"Uh, because, like you said, I too wouldn't like to crash today."

"We are not going to crash. I'd be just as good a driver as you. You know someone who hasn't slept in seventeen hours has the equality of impairment to someone with a .05 blood-alcohol level."

Olivia raised an eyebrow, "Are you telling me my blood stream consists of five percent alcohol right now?"

"No, I am not. I indirectly said I would be better."

"Oh, so on a normal day, you're just a good a driver as me?"

"Yup."

Olivia sighed. "All right, but only because I'm tired, and I imagine it's the only way I'm going to get you to shut up," Olivia said, exiting the busy street and pulling into a practically vacant parking lot. "All right, get in here," she said, stumbling to the other side of the car. "And stop walking like that. You're practically skipping; it's annoying."

"Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Erin said, hopping into the driver's seat. "Keys?" She asked, sticking out her hand.

"Here," she said, handing her the keychain. "And I didn't wake up on the wrong side of the bed; I didn't wake up at all this morning since I clearly didn't sleep. Buckle up."

"Cool with the nagging, mother, I'm getting there," she said, snapping the seatbelt into place. "And sleep deprivation is no excuse for rudeness."

"Oh I think it is. Adjust the mirrors."

"Again, way ahead of you," Erin stated, bending the mirror slightly.

"Is your seat adjusted?"

"Yes."

"And your foot can easily reach both pedals?"

"Uh-huh."

"Are you-?"

"Hey, Olivia?"

"What?"

"Not trying to be rude here, but I've driven a car before. Now if you don't feel comfortable, I'm not going to force you to let me drive, but I really do think I can handle it."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Sorry, I'm overreacting."

"It's okay. So do you want me to do donuts out of here or anything?"

"I dare you…no scratch that, knowing you, you'd probably actually do it."

"Ugh, you're no fun."

"Yeah that's why."

"It is."

"Mhm."

Erin backed the car out of the parking lot and started on the last leg of the ride home, making a move to turn the radio on.

"Excuse me, but I get radio privileges," Olivia proclaimed.

Erin scoffed. "And why would that be?"

"Because I'm the passenger."

"Says who? Whenever I'm the passenger you say they're yours since you're the driver. So which is it?"

"That's a trick question; they're always mine since I'm older."

"Great reason."

"Oh, I know."

"Thank God we have the same taste in music. I swear if I have to listen to more garbage about money and drugs like I did all summer with my brothers, I would probably drive this car into a large body of nearby water."

"Oh, I know. Delilah likes that kind too. Trash," Olivia said, disgusted, thinking about it.

"Complete crap," Erin agreed. After a few minutes she looked over to see Olivia wide awake in the passenger's seat. "You can sleep you know."

"Can not."

"Why?"

"Because I might have to grab the wheel."

"Wow, thanks for all the faith you have in me. I can see this relationship is really based on a trust."

"Look kid, I just want to get home in one piece."

"I'm not going to kill anyone!"

"Sure."

"I won't!"

"Don't get emotional; it'll impair your driving. Emotional people have ten percent of alcohol in their bodies," Olivia mocked in a snooty voice.

"Oh shut up. And that fact didn't even make sense. Mine did. Mine was from a credible source."

"You call Wikipedia credible?"

"It was Cha-Cha Answers, thank you very much."

Olivia chuckled, "Even better."

"I know my stuff."

"Except the rules of the road."

Erin glared through the middle mirror and stuck her tongue out of it, seeing that Olivia's eyes were closed and resting against the window.

"Eyes and tongue on the road, please."

Erin sighed. She could never win.

SVU

"Good morning, sunshine, we're home," Erin said, tapping Olivia on the shoulder as she pulled into the parking garage she used for her apartment.

Olivia yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I feel asleep?"

"No, your eyes were just closed and you were snoring."

"Well I was just confirming that I actually could have slept with your crazy driving," she said, stretching.

"Looks like that nap did you no good on the official rating of the grouchy-meter."

"I'm just playing around with you."

"I know. You wouldn't dare insult me for real."

"True," Olivia said, helping Erin grab her luggage and shut the trunk of the car.

"So why didn't Delilah come with you to pick me up? She doesn't miss me?"

Olivia laughed, "Oh she misses you all right. You're the only thing she's talked about for days. She's sleeping over at a friend's house tonight though. As much as she wanted to be there for you, she got a better offer."

"Pity."

"Don't worry; she'll be back tomorrow, probably gabbing in your ear about what a fun year you're going to have together."

"I can't wait."

"Yeah, it gets irritating after a while, don't worry. But now she'll have someone else to blab to too. I'm glad she's starting to show more of herself though. At first I wasn't so sure she was going to like it here, but she's becoming more outgoing. At the very least it doesn't seem like she hates it here," Olivia said, unlocking the apartment door.

"Oh she does, but she'll keep pretending she doesn't because she knows you're insecure."

"Don't joke; I'm actually being serious for once."

"I can use derision because what you're proposing is preposterous. I'm sure she loves it here."

"I just," Olivia stuttered, putting the suitcase down next to the table, "I want to be able to give her everything she used to have. I mean before this she lived in a mansion, and got manicures, and had a chef. Now, what, she lives in an apartment with me attempting to paint her nails and gets take-out? I mean I just want to her to feel comfortable and compensated, and I don't know if you're too far off. Sure she seems fine, but what if she's not happy here? What if this decision was selfish and she wishes she was in a different arrangement?"

"Oh my God, just sit down."

"What? No."

"Sit," Erin said, pointing at the couch. Olivia dragged her feet over to the sofa, obviously still too tired to argue. "I thought we'd been through this before."

"We have, but now I'm having second thoughts, doubts, it scares me that I'm not doing what's best for her."

"Olivia, you're cracked, okay? This whole thing," she said her fingers forming a loop around in the air, "is insane. You're crazy. You said yourself months ago that she'd be getting something she never got. You can offer her stability and kindness and an example, things she's never had. Things that are actually going to matter in ten years. Those are the things that make a person; those are the things that she actually cares about. Delilah loves you; she was always wide-eyed around you even before she knew who you were. It's even more obvious that you love her, and I think that she knows that. And that's way more important than a house or nail polish or caviar and filet minion. Okay?"

Olivia took a deep breath. "Okay," she said non-committed "Sorry for the rambling, I just, I get these feelings like I'm not doing enough, you know?"

"I know. And I think it's normal to feel like that. This is all still new to both of you and you still need time to adjust. But I think from the seven days I saw, and from knowing both of you beforehand, that it's going to work out."

"Thank you," Olivia said sincerely.

"You're welcome. And if she doesn't know that, I can always beat some sense into her," she said punching her fist into her palm. "That's right, knock in the loving feelings!" Erin said in a low voice.

"How about we just put in a movie," Olivia suggested.

"I suppose that could work."

"I get to choose."

"No way! You got music privileges!"

"And I have the power to take away all your privileges."

"On what grounds?" Erin crossed her arms.

"Um, a million counts of being sassy a couple months ago," Olivia convicted.

"Phish-posh, the statute of limitations ran out on those long ago," she waved the thought away.

"Well you also never finished being grounded a couple months ago either, so technically…"

"Objection," Erin said, raising her pointer-finger, "I don't see how that is at all relevant. That was like forever ago."

"Doesn't matter, it's still an open case," Olivia argued.

"Stop badgering me and choose a movie," Erin said, exasperated.

"Really? You're just letting me win like that?" Olivia asked, surprised.

"If it means that much to you"

"It does," she said popping in a movie and joining Erin back on the couch, sloppily throwing a blanket over the two, and lazily placed her arm around her shoulder.

"I know I said this earlier, but I'm really glad your back, kid."

"I didn't say this earlier, but it's good to be home," Erin said before letting jet-lag envelop her.

**Stop! Sequel time! *Does M.C Hammer dance.* That's right folks, I'm back. Are you excited? I know I am! Sorry about the uneventful first chapter, but it's going to get more intense and action-packed, I promise. So stay tuned! Sorry if this seemed out of character what with Olivia and Casey's friendship and anything else. But I love the idea of Casey and Olivia as friends. And in my defense, Olivia and Alex went ice skating this season, so I don't think it's that big of a stretch.**

**I can't guarantee updates won't be sporadic, but my goal is to crank out a chapter a week for y'all. But again, not promises, and I apologize in advance.**

**Thanks to my amazing beta Lady Riss (and TangoSVU who will beta in the future) who proofread this on REALLY short notice…I'm talking less than 24 hours, folks!)**

**By the way, this is posted today since 'Pageantry' was also posted on March 3rd. Just a fun fact for everyone! Kind of goes full circle, you know?**

**I hope you liked it and it gets as good of feedback as the first! I'm so psyched for what's to come! As always, thanks so much for taking the time to read, and reviews/PM's make my life! Make sure you buckle up because this is going to be an awesome ride. =)**


	2. Beginning

**If I owned it, would the show be on a hiatus until the middle of April? I'm thinking no…**

The obnoxious sound of a high-pitched beeping interrupted Olivia's deep and calm sleep. Even after getting up early for dozens of years, Olivia had still not grown accustomed or appreciative of the fact of opening her eyes from slumber. She enjoyed the covers. She enjoyed the pillows. She enjoyed the warmth and overall comfort of being peaceful in her bed. And yet, against her wishes, the alarm clock kept renouncing its ridiculously obnoxious hymn. After a few moments, the blaring got too unbearable to take. In defeat and trademarked early morning fashion (which consisted of a haze akin to a person in a drunken stupor and an attitude akin to a hormonal teenage girl going through a break-up), slammed her elbow on the table (which made her even more irritated) before jabbing her finger upon the snooze button, and putting her head back in its rightful place on the pillow.

After burrowing back under all of the blankets and adjusting her sleeping position back to satisfaction, she closed her eyes again to savor the five minutes before the cycle would most likely repeat all over again.

Before this regular pattern could occur, however, she remembered a fact keeping her from those three hundred seconds of God-sent shut eye. It was Monday, August 12, also known as the first day of school. And, though she didn't know for sure, she couldn't see Delilah as being much of a voluntary early-riser. Groaning, she used immense amounts of self-discipline to hoist herself up and turn the alarm clock all the way off. Yawning and rubbing her eyes in a somewhat dramatic fashion, she made her way to the bathroom to get ready. When she got to the door, however, she had a second thought. If she didn't want to be late, she thought it wise to start waking up the troops immediately.

She stumbled into Delilah's room first because of the sheer fact her bedroom was closer to her own, determined to get her up on the first try. Tripping over various stuffed animals and clothes slung and scattered around the floor, and over several pieces of furniture, she eventually made it to her desired location.

"Delilah," she sing-songed in a whispering tone. "Delilah," she tried again, placing a hand on the sleeping figure, and shaking gently, rocking her arm back and forth. "You've got to get up, kid; it's the first day of school. Yay, exciting stuff!" she said in a louder whisper.

"Hm," Delilah acknowledged her existence with a muffled sound, but turned over instead of springing out. Yup, starting early was definitely a good idea.

Olivia huffed, "you have five minutes until I come back; be up by then or I'll be forced to grab a glass full of ice water and pour it onto you."

"That's inhumane," Delilah whined, shoving the pillow over her head.

"I agree, so don't let it come to that," Olivia said, walking out the door. "Five minutes, I mean it," she pledged over her shoulder as she made her way into the hallway and across the hall to her second victim of lost sleep.

She'd done a lot of rearranging this summer to prepare to take in two additional bodies into the tiny apartment. It wasn't spacey by any means, but she'd made it work so it wasn't hopelessly cramped. The guest room was now Delilah's, and her miniscule office space that got used exactly twice over a period of the ten years she'd lived there had been transformed into Erin's living space. Fresh paint had gone on the walls, furniture had been purchased, sold, and moved, and even the oven occasionally saw the light of day.

Turns out Delilah liked to cook. Now, Olivia herself didn't understand the excitement of mixing various ingredients into bowls and sautéing in pans, but if it made Delilah happy, then so be it. It made Olivia's taste buds happy too, her waistline was a different story, but she couldn't argue with a damn good batch of brownies.

Opening the door to the older teen's slightly smaller and substantially tidier area, she braced herself for more of the same fight she had just witnessed. Sure, she'd gotten up to run back in March, but that was to run, and by choice. School? That she wasn't so sure about.

"Erin," she repeated the process she had just done with the other adolescent. "Sunshine is beckoning. The rays are practically calling your name."

"The sun can't talk," Erin replied.

"It's a figure of speech," Olivia sighed.

"Plus, I can hear raindrops, so you probably can't even see the sun."

"Honey, it's an expression, let it go," Olivia said, exasperated.

"Well if you're going to resort to expressions, make sure they work," Erin retorted.

"It's early, cut me a break, I'm doing the best I can. You should be happy I'm actually managing to slur coherent sentences together."

"You want a medal for that?"

"You're grouchy in the morning."

"Sarcasm is my coping mechanism."

"Can you find another one, one that doesn't involve my nerves getting constantly grated?"

"It's either sarcasm or homicide, you take your pick."

"I guess I'll have to deal with sarcasm. It's too early for me to clean up blood."

"All right, it's a deal then."

"Fantastic. Shake on it?"

"Sure," Erin muttered, popping her hand up, keeping the rest of her body protected by blankets.

"Great," Olivia said, taking this opportunity to clutch her hand and gently yank her off the mattress. Caught off guard, Erin didn't have time to think to use resistance to this tactic, and reluctantly complied.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! This was not part of the deal!" Erin argued.

"True. But you have to give me credit; it was a pretty creative way to get you up. I was thinking on my toes."

"Rude," Erin grumbled, arms now crossed, finding no humor at all in Olivia's cleverness.

"Ingenious."

"Go die in a hole," she countered, shuffling over to rip open her closet.

"Eh, seems kind of dirty and cold, not to mention the fact that there I couldn't bother you all of the time," Olivia shrugged, now partially amused at the stubbornness.

"I stand by my previous statement," Erin said, not bothering to look backwards, clicking and clacking hangers together to find the correct pieces of her uniform.

"And to think I was going to make you coffee."

Erin froze, her interest now piqued at the mention of the beloved angel juice. "I'd like that."

"Psh, not after that comment," Olivia teased, arms crossed.

Erin slowly turned around, perfect puppy dog pout and slowly blinking eyes. "Please," she said softly.

Olivia pretended to think this over. "Well, all right," Olivia laughed at the desperate, overdramatic antics. "I suppose I could give you one more chance."

Erin smiled, "you're just the best."

"Clearly," Olivia shrugged, walking back out into the hallway and glancing at the clock. It'd been seven minutes. She sighed; about to give Delilah's awakening another shot. "De-!" She started to shout.

"I'm here; I'm here, hold the frozen H2O." Delilah snapped, stomping out of her room before thinking better of it, then stomping over towards Olivia to explain her situation. "I mean, no, I don't have any idea what I'm going to wear, and no, I'm not going to have any friends or any clue or slight idea of what I'm doing at this school, but, hey," she shrugged sarcastically, "I'm up, and I'll be on time so everything is going to be just super! God forbid I be late for that excitement!" she shouted quickly and panicked before continuing to God knows where.

"Where are you going?" Olivia inquired at the clomping girl.

"To the laundry room to see if I can find anything that's even close to being expectable for the first day of school!"

Olivia stood there, floored. She should really get her to calm down. "You…ah…" Then again, that could wait until after breakfast. "You know what, have fun with that."

Delilah gave a girlish screech and Olivia could hear the rustling, clanks, and slides of hangers, and the slamming, pounding, and booming of closet doors.

Olivia continued standing there for a second, weary of her emotions. Were her hormones ever this severe when she was that age? Were **anyone's **supposed to be? Again, these things could be dealt with later; right now she had to get ready for work.

After throwing on a mundane blue button-down shirt and a pair of black pants, she ventured into the kitchen.

Shit, she should probably feed the kids before school. I mean, that's usually expected from guardians before a day of education, right? Putting a finger to her lips, she used the other hand to run over her scalp while she surveyed the pantry. Cereal? Too impersonal for a first day. Waffles? Please, no way that was going to happen. Toast. Now that was an idea. Toast was good. It required slight effort, but she couldn't really mess it up too badly. They could choose their little spreads and toppings and take it on the go if need be. Plus, she'd made it before. Yes, toast was definitely the winner.

She grabbed the bag of bread and snagged the toaster from its eternal resting place in one of her scarcely used cabinets. She popped a duel order into the machine, started the coffee maker, and slumped down in one of the chairs at the breakfast bar. How was it possible that she had gotten up less than a half an hour ago and yet she was already exhausted? Right as she put her head on the table, the toast shot up and she heard footsteps into the room. Sighing, she resisted the temptation to make all of it shut up and sleep again.

"Hello ladies, how are you?"

"I hate mornings," Delilah dead-panned.

"I hate you for waking me up," Erin said.

"Oh but hey, at least you guys aren't bitter about it or anything," Olivia responded sarcastically.

"Nope," Delilah agreed.

"Not at all," Erin confirmed.

"Fantastic. Now that we got those negative formalities out of the way, let's focus on something more positive, like how great our first days are going to be," Olivia said excitedly. "Come on, get pumped up. Let's get it started."

"Did you really just say that?" Erin snickered.

"Yes, I did. And if you don't follow that order I'm going to have to say again in song form."

"Huh?"

"My rendition of 'The Black Eyed Peas'' well-known tune is to die for," Olivia explained.

"No it's not. You can't sing. Trust me, I would know; I've suffered enough car rides with you," Delilah rationalized while Erin nodded in verification.

"You're right, which is why you don't want to hear it, which is why you should get those pathetic looks off of your faces and replace them with a faint resemblance of enthusiasm."

"Yay," Delilah said with a tight smile.

"It needs work, but you get the idea. Erin, your turn."

"Wahoo," she said in monotone.

"That was weak, but I'll take it. Here, eat this. I made it just for you," she said, tossing the breakfast in front of the tired pair.

"Many thanks," Delilah said, spreading on a razor-thin coat of butter.

"I'm also appreciative," Erin added, sloppily lathering on some peanut butter.

"Not a problem," Olivia replied, joining them at the table.

She just hoped the rest of the day would stay problem-free as well.

SVU SVU SVU

Erin had difficulty finding the happy medium between shy and outgoing. It could get kind of complicated at times. Her, being naturally inclined (or gifted was how she looked at it) to be very sociable to all she meets, tended to come off as a little overbearing and strong-willed usually.

However, being thrust in front of the limestone building, surrounded by plaid and ties, encircled with groups of squealing and hugging girls talking about their summer, and enclosed in a wall of guys fist-pounding, back-slapping, and head-nodding, discussing this year's football schedule and the horrors of soccer two-a-days they'd endured, she felt strange. Out of place. She knew no one, yet everyone seemed to know each other. It was like being invisible, for lack of a better, less cliché phrase.

It wasn't that she wasn't excited. She was thrilled, actually, to be having this kind of opportunity, for this experience. Back in the spring she was floating at the sheer thought. But now she was here, about to actually put it into play, roll the ball in motion. She supposed it was sort of like skydiving, sounding better when you planned it than instigating it. She was standing on the edge of a plane and about to jump into unknown territory. And here she was a mixture of eager and deathly terrified.

Taking a deep breath, she threw her book bag over her shoulder and strutted into the building, trying to look classy and approachable. Someone, anyone, would have been nice to talk to. She'd even take Madeline at this point. Lord, that desperate. Walking down the hallway, she searched for her or anyone that looked even a sliver of friendly. Biting her lip, she ventured over to her locker over the hum and buzz of morning school chatter.

She twisted the circled lock and put the few school supplies she lugged onto her shelf, taking a few minutes to organize it just to waste some time, before closing and leaning against the storage, just observing everyone, soaking it all in.

"Hey," a tall, blonde guy nodded at her, walking past her locker.

"Hey," she said back.

"Say, that's a pretty nice tag you got there."

"What?" she looked down only to be met with a small sticker still present on the outside of her skirt. How hadn't she noticed that before?

The boy smirked as she hastily ripped it off. "Oh, and right there," he said, fingering the collar on her shirt.

_For God's sake, there was another one? How stupid was she?_

She looked down at the part he was holding, but instead of removing a sticker, she felt a sharp pain go through her shoulder. She felt herself slam against the locker, and she let out a small whimper in pain.

"Welcome to school, newbie," the boy said, walking away with a cocky smile on his face and laughing along with his fellow letter-jacket clad cronies.

She'd known him for a total of thirty seconds and she already hated his guts.

Controlling an extreme urge to punch him in the face or use several choice words with the douche bag, she was stopped only by the fact that she knew Olivia would be pissed if she got called into the principal's office before the school day-or even year-had started.

Deciding to let it go and shake it off, reluctantly being the better person, she rolled her eyes and leaned back into the locker again.

Well wasn't this just a fantastic start to the year?

"Hello," she heard another voice.

Another one? Oh she so didn't need this right now.

"Hi," she said coldly, turning to meet the owner of the voice, coming face to face with a Hispanic boy with medium height and warmer brown eyes.

"Don't worry about Nick. He is an imbecile," the male said curtly.

Erin nodded and blew a piece of hair out of her face. "You're telling me."

"My name is Fernando by the way. Fernando Gomez. Are you new here? I don't remember seeing you here last year."

"Yeah, my name's Erin Rowe."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Same to you," she said, her voice now returning to its naturally bubbly state. She wouldn't allow Nick (now forever tagged 'Nick the Prick,' courtesy of Erin) to ruin her first day.

"So where did you transfer from?"

"St. Joseph's. It's just a little ways away from here."

"Oh yes, I know the place. Are you happy to be going here now?"

"I think so." He arched an eyebrow. "I mean I obviously haven't really been here long enough to know whether I like it. It was my choice to go here, if that's what you're implying," she explained.

"Wealthy family?"

"I won a scholarship, thank you very much. What, do you just automatically assume I'm stupid and the only reason I'm here is because of money?" She asked, insulted.

"No, no," Fernando quickly defended. "I just meant…I didn't…" she struggled and stumbled over an explanation, worried he'd offended her.

Erin laughed. "I'm just messing with you. But, hey, I guess that was a compliment, right? I mean, if you think I'm rich I must look pretty snazzy today, huh?"

"Oh, yes," Fernando replied. "This is exactly what I meant."

"Good. You know, I think I like you. A few minutes and you're already complimenting me. I think I could get used to that. Pity to say I'm already in a happy relationship with my boyfriend."

"Oh, that's quite all right. I don't think we would've worked out anyway."

"And why is that? Are you recanting your prior complimenting and now insinuating that I'm ugly? Well aren't you hot and cold," she joked.

"Not at all, it's just that I'm not exactly batting for the same team you are. Actually, that's the problem. I guess I'm batting for exactly the same team as you…you know, romantically."

"Gotcha," Erin said, now taking the hint.

"I hope that doesn't freak you out. But, you know, you aren't cool with that, I understand. Lots of people aren't."

"No, it's not that at all," Erin said quickly. "Hey, we're straight," she said, nudging him at her word choice. "Cool, I mean. It's nice finding a nice person around here. You know, one that actually wants to associate with the chick that has some sort of incurable and highly contagious new-girl plague."

"Well it's nice having a person that's not scared of catching my so-called disease too. Apparently being gay comes with nasty effects people are afraid of receiving."

"Oh so you're just being nice to me because I'm your last option?"

"Well…" he considered to contemplate this.

"Jerk."

"I'm awesome."

"Right. What class do you have first?"

"Chemistry. You?"

"Same. Walk me there?"

"Why of course," he said, leading her down the hallway, as she breathed a big sigh of relief.

SVU SVU SVU

Elliot walked into the precinct, eyes bloodshot and steps heavy.

"Damn, Elliot, you look like hell," Olivia observed, glancing up from her computer and taking a sip of coffee.

"Thanks, you're charming," he mumbled back, slumping down in his office chair, and grabbing at the cup Olivia slid towards him.

"No really Stabler, did you get run over by a truck, or just not enough beauty sleep?"

Elliot groaned. "I got woken up at four in the morning after getting home at one. Three hours of sleep is the best."

"What woke you up?"

"A call from the apartment owner. Apparently there was a case of termites on my floor, and all the tenants have to evacuate for one week minimum for extermination. I had to pack some bags and drive around town in the middle of the night searching for a decent hotel. It was a party."

"Why the hell would you rent a room?"

"I don't want to stay in the cribs for a week."

"No, I mean why didn't you just call me?" She asked in an obvious tone.

"I'm not going to stay at your place for seven days."

"Gee thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that; I just don't want to put you out."

"Oh please, like you've ever had a problem with putting me out before," she joked

"Liv, I'm serious."

"So am I. There's no way you're staying in a hotel for the rest of the week, so after work go get your little suitcase, swallow your pride, come over, and crash on my couch."

"I don't want to impose."

"You won't be imposing," she laughed. "You're practically part of the family."

"Still, don't you think that that's going to be awkward?"

"Why would that be awkward?" she asked, confused.

"You have two kids in the house now; won't it be strange for them seeing us…I don't know…together like that?"

"Well, if this is ever going to work, they're going to have to get used to it eventually. It's not like this is some sort of secret either, they already know we're taking a step here. My biggest concern is all the sly little jokes Erin is undoubtedly going to make."

Elliot smiled an appreciative, yet slightly apprehensive smile.

"Relax, El, it'll be fine. I mean technically we've spent nights together before. We've had many slumber parties passed out on our desks. It'll be just like that, but with more comfort and less aches in our muscles."

"Ouch, stop," he commanded, "my joints hurt just thinking about that," he said, unconsciously placing a tender hand on the back of his neck.

"See now, it's settled," she said firmly. "And I'll put you to work. The thought of you moping around all alone, ordering a pizza and watching whatever's on pay-per-view like a lonely bachelor is pathetic."

"I wouldn't be talking, Benson, you did that for what, twelve years?" he good-naturedly jabbed back, kicking his feet up on his desk and placing his hands behind his head, a conceited grin and eyebrows raised, his signature 'let's see how this plays out' pose.

Looking up to see his overconfident, arrogant, awaiting stare, she narrowed her eyes into a challenging match. He was testing her. "Low blow," she said calmly, matching his smile with a just as smug one.

"Still the truth," he shrugged, pushing her, engaging in their stubborn, genial staring-match.

"You need to get to work," Olivia finally said.

"You first," he directed his hands to the piles of papers on her desk, trying to get her to break the intense eye-locking contest.

"Nice try."

"Hey, it was an effort."

"And unsuccessful one, might I add," she raised an eyebrow.

"I'm messing with one of the best."

"Correction, the best, not 'one of.'"

"We'll see."

"Yeah, we will."

There were a few more seconds of silence, each one just looking at the other.

"Benson, Stabler, what the hell are you doing?" The captain stormed in, snapping them both out form their flirtatious, albeit short-lived, round of a staring contest. "I don't have time to wait on two of my detectives to sit around and play patty-cake. You have work to do, and unless you want to be flooded with even more paperwork courtesy of me, I suggest you get going on it!" He barked, stomping into his office.

"Yeah, Benson, get to work," Stabler whispered, chastising, now hunched over his desk, pen in hand.

"Shut up," she hissed back. "I still won, by the way."

"Lies."

"Fact."

"Rematch tonight?"

"Winner buys dinner?"

"You're on," she said before focusing solely on the things in front of her, her lip still slightly curved in a smile. "You are on," she said to herself, happily anticipating the night to come.

***Any grammar errors are on me this time. I felt too bad about not updating within a week (one day late. So close!) that I stuck with just proofreading by myself so I could publish this before the weekend is over. If anything's wrong, blame it on me and me alone!**

** *I swear to God this will get more exciting. Just a few more chapters of background and fluff and we'll get to the really seedy drama I promise! Hang in there, action lovers!**

** *Reviews would be amazing. I am so extremely humbled by the amount I received last chapter. Over ten for a first chapter? That's pure insanity! All of you are my heroes, and I honestly appreciate each and every one from the bottom of feedback-whoring heart! Give yourself a pat on the back. No seriously, do it. And get yourself a treat, like a milkshake or some cookies or something, because you deserve it! **

** Much love and many thanks! =)**


	3. Cornered

**Me: Yes, I do in fact own Law and Order: SVU.**

** Casey: Objection, lies!**

** Judge: Sustained. **

** Me: Dang it…**

Olivia trudged up the seemingly endless apartment stairs, holding onto the railing for support. It'd already been a long day, and it was only six o'clock.

After struggling with Elliot and his reluctance on his housing situation, the squad had caught a lead. She'd been driving and running around all day long. In addition to what seemed like endless and fruitless chases, they'd finally nailed the prime suspect, and brought him in for questioning. Needless to say, she was in the interrogation room for a full, non-stop cycle of about seven hours before he cracked and started to leak some vital information. It was tedious all right, but Olivia knew it was worth it. It was a clean arrest, and once the perp got talking, a rather smooth confession. They finally had all they needed to close the case they'd been working on for the last few weeks, and all of them were rather relieved.

Luckily for them, after around four o'clock, all they had left was paper work, and Cragen had taken mercy on them and sent them home around the 5:30 mark.

Blowing a piece of stray, brown hair out of her face, she took a second to pause and sip some of the cold coffee in the Styrofoam cup in her hand, cringing and crinkling her nose at the last little swig of the liquid, but knowing it was necessary. She had two teenagers living with her now; she was going to need all the energy she could get, no matter what it ranked on the spectrum of deliciousness.

She finally made it up the last flight of steps, stopping to throw the offending and now empty cup in the trash can, and slumping through the final stretch to her door.

That's when she heard the scream.

Hearing the high-pitched shriek, she crinkled her eyebrow, and went into a manner of intense focus, (or 'ninja-mode' to Erin) turning on the switch of adrenaline inside of her usually reserved for her work. Now sprinting down the hallway, she simultaneously pulled out her gun, and tried the door in vain. Muttering an obscenity or two, she struggled with her keys, her fingers fumbling over each other until she commanded herself to get a grip and get going. She finally managed to get the correct key into the lock and turn it.

"Erin! Delilah! What's going on? Are you okay?" she yelled, running through the door in panic.

Erin raised an eyebrow from her place on the couch, remote and phone in hand. "Well I got my homework done. It was kind of hard, but I think I'll manage to survive. That's for your concern, but I don't think it's anything to scream about," she said, a suspicious look still on her face.

"Oh, you shut up," she commanded. "Where's Delilah? Delilah!"

"Calm down, she's in her bedroom," Erin explained, going back to her previous activities, realizing that understanding the older woman was simply not possible.

"She's screaming for God's sake! Why would you not check on her?" she scolded quickly. "Delilah!" she said, rushing into her bedroom.

"What?" Delilah asked, standing on her bed, phone in hand and radio cranked up.

"What do you mean 'what?'? What's the matter? I heard you screaming down the hallway, what happened?" she asked quickly, scanning her eyes over her body to check if there were any injuries, thankfully seeing no blood, bruising, or bones out of place. "And why the hell are you standing on a bed, get down from there!" she commanded.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting down," she sprung off of her mattress. "And I was screaming because I have the absolute best news in the entire world!" she shrieked again, running over to Olivia.

"What?" Olivia asked, catching her breath, happy that nothing was wrong, but pissed she just got a near-heart attack for no rhyme or reason.

"My friend Ginny got tickets to the midnight premiere of 'Haunted Heart'!"

Olivia blinked.

"And she's taking Marilyn, Dawn and me!"

Delilah waited for a reaction that she was sure would come with this news, but was disappointingly met with a blank look.

"I said I got a ticket to the midnight premiere of 'Haunted Heart!' For tonight! And they were sold out!" She started jumping. "Jump, this is exciting!" she started to prance around, before her face dropped as she looked back to Olivia again. "Why aren't you jumping? This is like the event of the year," she said with emphasis and conviction.

"Well, first of all, I have no idea what movie you're talking about."

"You've never heard of 'Haunted Heart'? Are you kidding me?" Delilah asked with disbelief.

"Um…no."

"It's the most anticipated movie of the entire year! It's where these two ghosts fall in love, but they can't be together because one's from a line of good ghosts and one's from a line of evil ones, and they're from different planets. Their families don't get along, so it's a forbidden love, like a modern day 'Romeo and Juliet' but with supernatural creatures and sci-fi, you know? Anyways, they finally get together, but it turns out that Sebastian, the boy ghost, is in an arranged marriage, and his fiancée, Marisol, is like a pharaoh and related to this king who's really Sebastian's true love's cousin's sister's son's ex-girlfriend, and she's the great granddaughter of Zeke, who's-"

"Okay, okay, I get the point. No need to go into more detail about that …fascinating plot. And, while it does sound…interesting, I don't think I want you out that late tonight, De."

"But…but it's 'Haunted Heart,'" she said softly, sounding crushed.

"I know it, babe, but you have school tomorrow, and I don't feel comfortable with you running around at two in the morning," Olivia explained sympathetically.

"I won't be 'running around' per say, I'll just go to the movies and come home. Plus, Marilyn's mom already said she could carpool if we could get tickets, so you don't have to do anything. And they're really popular and they seem to actually like me," she said desperately, pulling out the final stops.

Olivia sighed. She hated this. Even though Delilah was obviously putting on a bit of an overdramatic performance, she saw true despair in her voice, especially over the fact of her new potential friends. But she had to stick to her guns, as much as it killed her. "I know, but I'm still going to have to say no, okay? I'm sorry. How about we go on Friday, that way the movie won't be as crowded and we can see it together, okay?" she tried to improve the situation, a compromise if you will. Seriously, parenting sucked sometimes.

"Okay," Delilah said, still slightly hurt.

"Cheer up; it's only two days to wait. Plus, then we can make it a night. Have dinner, maybe go shopping, maybe bring Erin along, it'll be fun. You know, unless you're too cool for me, in which case I understand if you don't want to hang out," she explained.

"Everyone's too cool for you," Erin said, picking up the last part of the conversation while waking past Delilah's door to get to her own.

"Hey, I don't remember ever inviting you into this conversation," Olivia said out the door.

"Too bad I joined it anyway," she smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

Olivia rolled her eyes and looked at Delilah. "As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted," she glared at Erin, "we'll do something fun on Friday, you know, as a family."

"What are we doing?" Erin asked, stepping into the bedroom, and joining the two on the bed.

"Hanging out on Friday. Cool with you?"

"Sure, as long as I don't get any better offers," Erin joked.

"Wait, did you really just invite her?" Delilah asked. "I mean, Olivia's cool, but I have a feeling Erin's going to cramp my style. I don't know if my reputation can handle being seen with her. I mean, what if we're spotted and I see someone I know? I'll forever be known as the girl that was seen with that loser," Delilah said, looking over at Erin.

"Wow," Erin laughed, "that's harsh."

"I agree, that was pretty cold," Olivia said.

"I think there's only one way to handle this," Erin suggested.

"I think you're right."

"You got her feet?" Erin asked with a suggestive smirk.

"You get the arms."

"Oh no," Delilah's eyes got wide.

"Let go," Erin said, putting the play into action, and gently pinning down her arms while Olivia pulled her socks off, mercilessly ticking her feet. Delilah shrieked and started laughing uncontrollably, squirming and kicking around, begging and pleading out of the kindness for their hearts for them to stop. After a few moments of their tickle torture, Erin felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

"All right, I suppose you've had enough for now, but call me a loser again, and there'll be more where that came from," she pointed accusingly as she warned with a smirk, putting her phone to her ear.

"Hello? Oh, hey Fernando what's up?" she asked, walking out of Delilah's bedroom and into her own, lying down on her own bed.

"Not much, what is up with you?"

"Not a lot either. Did you finish that chapter for English?"

"Yes, but it was not easy. The first day of school and I was already a little confused. Let us hope it will not be like that for the rest of the year."

Erin laughed, "No kidding. Luckily besides 'all about me' sheets, that was basically all we had. I'm looking at a free night for the rest of evening."

"Yes, so am I."

"It's nice, really, how they're easing us back again. Except for Mrs. Reese's fifth question on that personality page, that one stumped me."

"Oh yes, 'what is your favorite color?' is very puzzling," Fernando laughed.

"For your information, number five was actually 'what is your favorite animal.'"

"What, you could not choose between the lion, tiger, and liger?"

"The ostrich and the honey badger, thank you very much."

"Oh, these are both good choices. What was your consensus?"

"After making an extensive pro-con list, the honey badger edged out the ostrich."

"I see. Besides these life altering decisions, what else have you been doing?"

"Oh, nothing really. I made some popcorn earlier, read a little, and my boyfriend's coming over later."

"Ah, a boyfriend. Is he attractive?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. But I don't want you getting any ideas, he's mine. Plus, no offense, I don't really think he's your type either."

Fernando laughed. "None taken. Plus, I too already have a mate."

"Oh really," Erin inquired. "And who is this fine young man? Does he go to our school?"

"His name is Benjamin Stanton. I call him Benji, but you should not. I think he would not like it."

"So what do I call him? I mean Benjamin's kind of long."

"Some call him Ben," Fernando suggested.

"Ben, good. Only one syllable. I think I can handle that."

"Yes, I think you should be able to," he chuckled. "And he does go to our school."

"Well then why didn't we sit with him at lunch? You two being lovebirds and all, I should think you'd socialize."

"He is in a different part of our school, in the music wing. He is a violinist. He plays fantastically," Fernando seemed to be reminiscing. "The music is beautiful, and he is very talented."

"Cute?"

"Very handsome."

"Aw, well I want to meet this kid sometime."

"I will make sure you do. Maybe as soon as tomorrow. I will tell him to meet me in our hallway before class."

"Sweet, I'm excited now! I'll make sure to dress up. Or, you know, as dressy as I can make plaid. And I'll shower."

"This is good news."

"Indeed," she replied as she heard a knock on the door. "Oh, that must be Chris."

"Chris?"

"Chris, my boyfriend. Listen, I'd love to-"

"Oh do not mind me. Go and be with your lover."

Erin laughed. "I don't know if I'd go that far yet, I mean we're not like-"

"Erin?"

"Yes?"

"Go."

"Thanks for understanding. See you tomorrow."

"Good-bye for now."

Erin practically skipped to the door. She hated to sound like a dependent, pathetic, cliché high school girl who only lived for her boyfriend, but truth was that she'd really missed him. While they communicated regularly, they hadn't met in person in a couple of months. They'd been best friends even before they'd started dating, so she wasn't too ashamed to admit she was having major Chris withdraw.

"Hello, handsome," she said opening the door, only for her eyebrows to drop and then curve into a confused wrinkle. "Elliot?"

"Hey, thanks for the welcome, it's nice to see you too," Elliot replied, gently punching her arm in a teasing greeting.

"What are you doing here?"

"What, you aren't excited to see me?" Elliot pretending hurt.

"No, no, I am, I was just…expecting someone else," Erin explained. "Why do you have a suitcase?"

"Oh, uh, Liv didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"That um…" he cringed. "Well this is awkward…"

"Wait, tell me what?" she asked, confused, leaning against the door, Elliot still in the hallway. She quickly snapped up and drew in a sharp gasp, her hands covering her mouth. "Sweet Jesus you're engaged," she said, her eyes widening.

"No-"

"You're giving her a present?"

"Not exact-"

"You're moving in?"

"Yes, but-"

"Oh my God, I can't believe it!" Erin squealed. "And I can't believe Olivia didn't tell me sooner! Olivia!" she yelled.

"What?" she heard Olivia.

"No, no, not permanently, just for this week, my apartment has termites," Elliot quickly explained.

"Oh," Erin's face dropped. "Well that's boring. Never mind, Olivia!" she yelled again.

"Okay!" Olivia shouted back.

"Yeah, so, now that we got that out of the way, are you going to let me in?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, come on in."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Elliot put his suitcase next to the kitchen table and slumped on the couch, making himself comfortable. "So," he folded his hands, "what's new?"

"Oh, nothing much," Erin sighed and slumped down next to him.

"Oh, come on, it was the first day of school, you've got to have something for me."

Erin shrugged. "Eh, not really. Pretty much a normal first day. Rules, gross lunch, new people: good and bad-"

"Whoa, good and bad? Who was bad?" Elliot asked, crossing his arms into a defensive pose.

"Just the typical, Elliot. New girl, new year, cranky new attitudes, they just don't really mix. Totally not a big deal, please don't waste your time worrying about it. " Erin reassured.

"No, I need to know. If someone's messing with you, I need to be informed. What happened?"

Erin blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. Why did she have to bring that up? Stupid, stupid move if you wanted to talk casually with Elliot Stabler. She took a deep breath. "It was a teeny tiny tiff." Elliot nodded, his eyes expectant. She rolled her eyes. "Some random guy just shoved me a little, but-"

"What?"

"Oh for God's sake, Elliot-"

"No, what's the son of a bitch's name? I'm collaring his ass for assault!"

"Collaring who for assault?" Olivia asked, walking into the sitting area. 

"This-this monster who gets off pushing helpless girls," Elliot stuttered, enraged.

"I wouldn't say helpless…" Erin mumbled, offended.

"Okay, El, calm down," Olivia gently pushed him back onto the couch, attempting to mediate the flaring temper. She'd dealt with this many times. "Now Erin, since you seem to be the only rational person in this conversation I guess I'm limited to talking to you. What is he talking about?"

"Your boyfriend's overreacting."

Olivia sighed, and gave Erin an exhausted glare. "I stand corrected on the rationality aspect, but I'm pressed for time, so I'll let that go and allow you to continue."

"Thank you. As I was saying, your boyfriend is overreacting about a little incident at school today."

"Okay, what incident?"

"I got pushed a little. No, not even pushed, more like brushed with miniscule force."

"Purposefully?"

"Yes, I would assume so."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine and dandy, really, better than ever."

"Okay, then I'll think you'll live," she said, looking over at Elliot, him still obviously not satisfied with the result. "And you know if it gets too bad you can obviously come to me, or Elliot, or any trusted adult, capiche?" she asked quickly to assuage Elliot's fears.

"Yeah, but like I said it wasn't a big deal…at all," Erin said slowly.

"Yes, I realize this, but I'm sure he was just looking out for you," Olivia tried not to shake her head at Elliot's over protectiveness, but secretly found it sort of amusing. A cop that has no problem putting some bad men in their place using fists with a secret sweet spot for the ladies; gentlemanly in an irritating way. It was sort of…endearing.

"Yes, I understand. Thank you Elliot, but the service of smashing his face in isn't going to be needed at this time. Thanks for the offer though, really, it's appreciated," Erin consoled.

Elliot nodded, slightly ashamed at his outburst. He couldn't help it, he really couldn't…

"All right, good, now that we have that all settled, I'm going to go help Delilah with her homework. She's on fractions, and not to brag, I was pretty much a pro in my days," Olivia cracked her knuckles. "Math student of the year three years in a row, no big deal," she brushed it off.

"Impressive," Erin commended.

"Yeah, Benson. But I am surprised you could learn anything from that thick head of yours," Elliot joked.

"Oh stop, you're too sweet," Olivia said sarcastically. "I'm going to leave before my self-esteem drops ever lower. No one appreciates my talent," she whined.

"Oh, quit licking your wounds and find some common demonators," Elliot demanded.

"Fine," Olivia flipped her hair and started to walk away.

"She's a dork," Erin shook her head.

"You bet she is," Elliot agreed.

"But she's our dork, so I guess we'll have to accept it."

"I guess so."

Erin sighed and closed her eyes. "I forgot how tiring government-mandated education could be."

"Taxing?"

"Oh yes. But at least my man's coming over later so we can sulk together."

"Your man? But Erin, I'm already here," Elliot explained.

"Sorry, I meant my other man."

"Oh, you and Christopher are still together, huh?"

"Yes, Chris and I are going strong," Erin said proudly, smiling at the thought.

Elliot nodded, secretly impressed. Long distance was hard as an adult; he couldn't imagine it as a teenager. "How is he these days?"

"Good, I think, but I wouldn't know for sure. I haven't really seen him in a couple of months."

"Right, it was probably hard with you in Houston and all."

"A little. Thankfully technology kept us close. Texting, Facebook, it makes the pain more bearable," she theatrically grasped her heart.

Elliot nodded and bit his lip, opening his mouth only to close it again.

"What?" Erin asked, noticing his apprehension.

Elliot opened his mouth and spoke slowly; carefully forming the words he was trying to say. "Look, just make sure you're careful."

"Okay…but what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Elliot took a deep breath. "You and Chris seem pretty serious. I just want you to remember to take time to take care of yourself. I'm not saying Chris is a bad guy, but boys this age are only after one thing, you know?"

"Uh…" She knew there this was going. She didn't like it, but she knew. What she didn't know was how to stop it.

"And when a teenage boy gets…acquainted with a lady-"

"So when they're courting?" Erin asked, obnoxiously throwing in some 1700's vocabulary to stall what was inevitably about to ensue.

Elliot ignored the comment.

"When he's dating a pretty girl, he's going to want to…advance."

"Oh my God…" Erin cringed and hid her face.

"And if or when he does want to move faster or go farther, you can't feel pressure."

"Please stop…" She practically pleaded, practically curled into a ball on the couch.

"And if something more happens, something more…intimate than what you're comfortable with-"

She couldn't handle this anymore. "Elliot! Elliot," Erin put her hands out in surrender. "I-uh-while I really…appreciate what you're trying to do here, because I know it's out of love, it's really, _really_ not necessary-"

"But-"

"No! No, please, hear me out," Erin begged. "It's just…I've heard it all. I've, you know, I've read books. I've-I've been to health class, so that's good, always a plus," she said, desperate for a way out of this painful conversation. "And believe me, I already know that if I have…questions or concerns that I can contact trusted people. And really, if I need something you'll be one of the first to know," she reassured. "But this-this little impromptu…sex Ed course isn't needed here. If you still think that this is a topic that needs to be tackled, I'm sure Olivia would be more than happy to present it," _and then laugh that Erin ever had to go through this in the first place_. "And if that's the case, both she and I will be prepared. I'll brace myself that time. Maybe she'll even make a power point or something. But this," she made hand gesture between the two of them, "this just can't happen, because quite frankly, this is just too awkward. I'm sure you feel the same way…"

"I realize it's uncomfortable, I just wanted to make sure-"

"And you have," she reassured, putting her hands out. "You really have. Like I said, much appreciated. It makes me feel special and cared about. But this time it's really okay. I promise, I'll be careful I'll stay…safe," she pushed out the word through her clenched teeth. "I'll be okay."

Elliot nodded, accepting that she understood what he was trying to do. Embarrassment wasn't the driving force behind this, he really did care. He never knew how to bring this kind of thing up. All of his girls' little chats had been excruciatingly uncomfortable. But what could he say? He was a father, it was in his blood. "Well," he cleared his throat. "Now that that's…taken care of and I've probably make a fool of myself, I'm going to leave you alone so I don't intimidate your boyfriend when he comes. I know it's hard to believe, but I can tend to be a little overprotective at times."

"No! You?" Erin asked, feigning shock. "That's hard to believe."

Elliot shook his head. "Oh, shut up. You should be thanking me. I'm like your own personal body guard."

"Except I can't fire you."

"True. You're stuck with me."

Erin nodded, but then realized something. "But wait, why would he be scared? Chris has already met you."

"As a cop related to Jones' case."

"Yeah, so?"

"Not related to your case," he said, picking his suitcase up, feeling the badge in his pocket. Just in case.

You could never be too careful.

***Hides face.***** I'm sorry it's taken me awhile. I've been a busy, busy little bee. And I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't up to par. I had a direction, then changed it, then changed it back, then tweaked ideas, then moved stuff around, you get the idea…basically it was a mess. I hope it's at least readable and decent. If not…I apologize…And there may be grammar errors, in fact you can probably count on them. I swear to God I proofread, but I make mistakes (probably more than I should), but, hey, I try my best. *****Shrugs.*******

** So, while I may not actually _deserve _any reviews, I would still really appreciate them. They're the highlights of my day, no joke. I love every single one of them and think you all deserve something amazing. Sadly, I cannot afford to buy you all anything, all I can give you are words of repetitive thanks, but trust me, I really mean them. You all are so legit!**

** I probably won't get around to updating for a little over a week. *Dodges flying objects.* Spring break is next week, so internet connection will probably be a no-go. You think you can suffer the wait? I'm warning you, next chapter…things heat up, the story gets going, and our characters will be starting in full swing. It'll be amazing. So reviews would be rocking. Thanks for all of your support! Give yourself a pat on the back. For real. Do it. Now. **

** Many thanks! Love ya'll! =)**


	4. Death

**Roses are red**

** Violets are blue**

** I'm simply a writer**

** And do not own SVU **

"Hey wait a minute; don't I know you from somewhere?" Erin said inquisitively to the person holding flowers on the other side of the door.

The person smiled and shrugged. "You do look sort of familiar," he replied, wrinkling his eyebrow. "Hm…oh!" he snapped. "Aren't you that gorgeous girl I saw a few months ago? The amazing kisser?"

Erin played along. "I guess there's only one way to find out," she said, placing the flowers on the table and leaning in for a kiss.

"I missed you," he said into her hair, inhaling her familiar scent he was long-deprived of, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I missed you too," she said, locking her fingers together behind his neck, running her fingers through his hair.

After a few moments of the embrace, they made their way to the couch, kicking their feet up on the coffee table.

"So, how was your day?" Erin asked, casually propping her arm up on the back of the couch.

"Oh, you know, a bunch of boring rules to go over. I mean we're sophomores in high school, but apparently we still need to review the basics like 'no copying off of your neighbor's paper.'"

"Hey Chris, you know you're not supposed to run in the hallways by now, right?"

He flashed a mischievous. "Yup, but I guess I'm just a rebel," he shrugged.

Erin whistled a shook her head. "Dang, that's pretty badass. Not sure if I can keep up with or even approve of those crazy antics."

"Pretty much living on the edge nowadays."

"Switched over to the dark side?"

"Just about."

"Then I guess I'll just have to keep my eye on you."

"Guess you will."

"So besides this, what are you doing tonight?"

Chris put on a wide smile and reached into his pocket. "Funny that you mentioned that, but I kind of made plans for the two of us. I wanted to surprise you, but I think it's time you experienced this. I know you've never done it before, and I wanted it to be with me, make it special, you know? Obviously there'll have to be safety precautions, for both of us, but I think we can handle it," he gave his little speech, looking right at Erin, and wrapping his arms around her, giving her a little squeeze.

Erin looked up at him questioningly. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it. You know," he said, prompting her, the extreme smile still frozen in his features.

"Oh my God," Erin said, shock evident in her disgusted voice.

Chris' face dropped, his shoulders slumped. "What?"

"I can't even believe this. Elliot was right about you being a pig?" She questioned, though realization was seeping in her tone. She jumped up from the couch, putting her head in her hands. How could she have missed something like this? Here she thought she knew him, and yet he turned out to be the opposite. She thought he was this sweet innocent guy, and yet he's proposing his sex plans in the middle of her apartment. "You know, I think you'd better go. Door's that way," she spat, pointing at the exit.

"Well, I'm not just leaving without an explanation," Chris said, standing up as well, his face now matching hers.

"You seriously need a freaking explanation?" Erin asked harshly. "Then you're an idiot," she accussed.

"Erin, what the hell is going on with you? I thought you wanted this. I thought every girl wanted this," he explained, a mixture of anger and confusion in his voice.

"Oh, so now I'm just another girl to you. Gotcha."

"No! I'm saying it's normal. It sounds like a fun time. It's really not that big of a deal!" he explained.

"So then I'm slut?" She questioned, arms crossed, liquid, white hot rage and hurt boiling in her tear ducts. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him watch them spill.

"What are you talking about?"

"You think that this is what I wanted? Because I think I made myself perfectly clear with all of my comments. When we watched TV, remember?" she explained, recalling his attention to her remarks when they flipped to a show about teenage mothers and how difficult it must be.

"Exactly!" He pointed at her. "That's exactly my point! You hinted it at so many times it was impossible not to see! You verbally said that you wanted it! So excuse me if I don't see why you're so upset!"

Then, she just about lost it, the anger bubbling out full-force.

"You freaking drove over here with a condom proposing that we should do it, saying that I basically flat-out asked you for it, and you honestly thought I wouldn't be upset?" She yelled furiously. By now Delilah, Olivia, and Elliot were probably watching this entire, hopelessly embarrassing situation taking place. Although on second thought, maybe it was for the better. One of them might have to hold her off of Chris soon.

She looked at him, noticing an awed look on his face. "Yeah, got no words for that, huh? Just get out of here," she said, starting to walk away, not noticing her surroundings, her entire environment blurred by tears and pain, only feeling the blows of betrayal.

And out of the blue, he started laughing.

He actually had the balls to laugh at her after all of this? He just needed to put the last nail in the coffin? Rub the final remains of salt into her stinging wounds? He didn't even have the decency to leave her with a small amount of dignity? Couldn't even afford to spare a shred of pride?

She was so surprised, she didn't even know what to say, what to do, how to react. All she could do was look at him, eyes narrowed and jaw dropped, the final question on the tip of her tongue. "Why. Are. You. Laughing?" she said with hostility. Her tone was a mixture of a growl and a hiss, the pitch made disoriented by her sore and tear-filled throat.

"That's what you thought the surprise was?"

"Obviously," she retorted harshly.

"For God's sake, Erin, they're movie tickets," he said, holding his hand out with a small slip, allowing her to snatch it. Sure enough, the paper revealed itself to be a ticket to the midnight premiere of 'Haunted Heart'.

"You told me you'd never been to a movie premiere before, and this movie's supposedly really popular, so I assumed all the girls were like obsessed with it. You kept saying you wanted to see it when the trailers and ads played on the TV, so I thought I'd surprise you. I was going to have you clear it with Olivia and Elliot, but I just wanted to give you a little gift. A welcome home surprise, you know? We were going to double date with Jack and Becca."

Erin said nothing for a few moments, letting it all sink in, switching her gaze from the ticket in her hand to the boy right in front of her.

"I'm the biggest douche bag ever," she finally said with conviction.

"No you're not," Chris reassured.

"Oh yes. Yes I am," she nodded. "I am so…God…sorry sounds so weak for what I just did to you. But I can't think of anything better, so I'm sorry, I'm sorry, feel free to punch me, or dump me, or yell at me, or break up, or tell your friends how awful of a girlfriend I am. Have them egg my house, or TP it or egg my person or-"

"Erin, stop."

"Not let me finish apologizing! Feel free to do whatever you need to do to get me back because I am a freaking idiot that needs to shut up for once and get all the facts before passing judgment. Seriously, do what you need to do. Whatever it takes."

Chris wrapped his arms around her. "I think that this will suffice," he chuckled, holding the embrace.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I respect you. I'm just hurt you think that I'd pressure you. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, you know?" he said, scratching his head. "We have plenty of time for that," he said smiling.

"I know, I know, I don't even know what I was thinking. I was just being stupid I guess."

"It's not stupid."

"No?"

"No. It's good you know what you want. It's good to be assertive. Now, I'll admit that argument probably verged on the aggressive side, but it's better than being walked all over. Plus, it didn't surprise me all that much. And I take responsibility for wording that in the worst possible way," he laughed again.

"Not your fault."

"Eh, I'll take partial responsibility. That did sound rather…suggestive."

"Just a little bit. But now that we've got that out of our system and Elliot and Olivia are probably wondering who's dying in here, let's go ask them about the movie, shall we?"

"That'd probably be a good idea before you try to accuse me of attempted murder," he teased, but was silenced at Erin's glare.

"Olivia?" She called out, walking with Chris and finding her in Delilah's room. "Hey, how are those fractions coming along?"

Olivia looked up from her chair next to Delilah's own seat and desk scattered with pencils, erasers, papers, and a calculator.

"Well, it's going well, right De?"

Delilah popped her head up briefly, "yup," she said, before promptly putting her nose back in the book, tongue slightly out in a sign of intense concentration.

"Cool. Sorry about that um, little fiasco out there."

"Yeah, seriously, what was with the screaming? It's a pity we couldn't make out the words very well. Unfortunately these walls aren't very good for snooping."

"Just a misunderstanding," Erin brushed it off, not exactly wanting to go back into the uncomfortable subject mixed with her own foolishness.

"Oh, okay," Olivia said, wanting to respect the privacy. "But you're fine, right? No one's hurt, nothing was broken, no one was physically injured?" she asked nonchalantly, giving a quick glance over at Chris, wondering if she was covering for him.

"No, no, we're all good," Erin said convincingly.

Olivia nodded, her instincts telling her Erin was telling the truth, overriding the omnipresent fear of someone she loved becoming a victim, having to go through what she saw, heard, and worked with everyday.

"All right then, it's all good with me. My only request is you're slightly quieter next time. I doubt the neighbors enjoyed the free screamo concert."

"We can comply," Erin reassured.

"Understood. Sorry, Ms. Benson," Chris apologized nervously, talking for the first time. Olivia sensed just a slight squirm in his demeanor, allowing herself to be slightly humored by his intimidation at her position.

"It's okay, Chris," she attempted to ease his anxiety, though not being able to fully contain the smallest hint of a smirk.

"Oh, and we came here to ask you something," said Erin.

"No, you're not allowed to get married."

"That's not what we were going to ask."

"Oh, okay then proceed."

"Well, Chris here got his hands on these amazing tickets for tonight, and we were wondering if you'd allow us the honor of going."

"What are they to?"

"The premiere of a certain 'Haunted Heart' movie," Erin said, excitement lacing her voice.

At this declaration, Delilah's head snapped up, her pencil dropping, and a glare replacing the focused look on her face. She looked up at Olivia, being met with a look of anguish and exhaustion.

Olivia sighed. "Though I would love nothing more than to let you two spend time together, and while I think it's very sweet he would do that, I already told Delilah no. So, I'm sorry, but I don't think tonight's going to work."

Both teenagers' faces dropped.

"While I understand that, I am older than Delilah," Erin pointed out.

"I know, I know," Olivia said, putting her hand up to her temples. "But it's still a school night, and I really don't feel comfortable letting you be out that late."

"It's not _that_ late," Erin tried one last thing.

"I'm sorry, I just don't think tonight. We're going to see it Friday though, and Chris is welcome to join us then," Olivia tried to point out a positive.

"Yeah, I'll see it with you then," Chris stated. "Hey, if it's any good, I'll want to see it twice right?"

Olivia thanked her lucky stars for Chris right now. God bless that boy.

"Exactly. It'll be great," Olivia said.

Erin nodded. She still wasn't fully convinced, and still disappointed, but she decided to suck it up and be optimistic. She was a little tired. And did she really want to see the movie when she was exhausted and stressing about school the next day?

"You're right," she said. "Friday then. It'll be fun."

"Good," Olivia said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Glad you'll be able to join us."

"Thanks for the invite," Chris said. "Well, I should really get going. Got to do some homework. Walk me out?" he asked Erin.

"Obviously," Erin replied, moving into the hallway with him.

"Hey," Chris whispered. "I'm going to leave this here, just in case she changes her mind," he said, placing the movie ticket on the top of Erin's purse. "Just to be safe."

"You're not going to give it to someone else?"

"Nah, you're the only one I wanted to go with."

"I'm sorry," she said guiltily.

"Don't apologize. You or Olivia. I get she has her reasons. She really cares about you. It's nice you found someone like that." Though he didn't directly say it, she knew who he was referencing. He wasn't only making allusion to Erin's mother, but also his own parents. It wasn't that they were bad people, they were just uninvolved. They didn't really know how to care, when to set rules or when to engage in their son's life. Remembering this she made a mental note not to take Olivia for granted.

"It is nice," she admitted.

"Well, I really should crack open a book or something," he said.

"Eh, I guess."

"Bye, babe."

"See you," she said, sending him off with a final kiss before the door closed behind him. Now bored for the time being, she decided to go bother Olivia again, preparing to go back to Delilah's room, realizing there was no need when she saw the detective coming into the living room.

"Hey there," Olivia greeted, grabbing a drink out of the fridge before collapsing on the couch and turning the TV on.

"Hi," she replied.

"You mad?"

"Nah, we're cool."

"Good. I hate it when you're pissed. You make me feel bad and you scare me."

Erin laughed. "Fair enough," she replied, taking a seat next to Olivia.

"Hey, about the yelling, are you seriously okay?" Olivia asked earnestly. She couldn't help it. There was still that tiny ounce of nagging doubt.

"I'm seriously okay. It was a misunderstanding."

"About?"

"Sex."

Olivia merely missed the mark of full out chocking on her soda, managing to swallow it just in time before coughing, Erin looked over at her reaction with amusement, more than proud at the timing at her announcement, anticipating an effect like this.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her eyes watering from the lack of oxygen caused by the fizzy bubbles.

"That's the thing, I thought it was about sex, but he was just talking about a movie."

"Do I even want to know the path of that conversation?"

"Probably not."

"Okay then, next subject."

"All right…well…I don't really know what you want to talk about."

"Anything, nothing, I don't care."

"Where's Elliot?"

"Sulking in your bedroom."

"Why?" Erin asked slowly.

"I sent him there. When he heard you two yelling, I kid you not, he actually pulled out his taser and almost stomped in here."

"Dear God…"

"Yup. So I told him to calm down and go to an isolated area where he couldn't hurt anyone."

"Gotcha…"

"Yeah. Anymore questions?"

"I don't think so. Oh! Well I should tell you that the movie ticket is still here. Chris left it here just in case you changed your mind."

"I won't."

"I know, I'm just warning you that it's not some big secret plot to sneak out and go against you will. I'm not climbing out my window with Chris there to catch me at the bottom or anything. I just wanted to warn you about the reasoning so you don't jump to conclusions."

"Hey thanks, that's nice to know."

"I thought it was in the best interest of my life as well."

"Smart girl."

"I try."

"Olivia! What's one-sixth plus ten-eighteenths?" Delilah yelled from her room.

Olivia sighed. "Well, I guess that's my cue to leave."

"Nice talking to you."

"Same. Wish me luck in there."

"Go get 'em, math champ."

"Oh, don't worry, I got this," Olivia nodded, walking away, leaving only Erin to ponder.

SVU

The clock flashed the angry red numbers of 3:16 simultaneously with the constant, redundant and repugnant beeping of Olivia's work cell phone.

Rubbing the sleep and temporary confusion out of her eyes, she flipped her arm over her torso to grab and heed to the sound and ceased the obnoxious noisemaker.

"Hello?" she answered groggily, propping her head up on her free arm to yield more attention to the other end of the line.

"Olivia, it's Cragen," her boss' voice replied.

"Captain, what's going on?"

"Caucasian male, mid to late teens, found dead in a choir classroom inside a school. Discovered when the night janitor found him and immediately contacted the authorities," he said, briefing her on the matter.

"Okay, and why is this an SVU case?"

"Marks found on his body suggest ongoing abuse," he explained.

Olivia inhaled sharply to compose herself before seeking further information.

"Do we know his identity?"

"There was a school ID found in a book bag on him. Says it belongs to a Benjamin Stanton. Look, can you get down here? We need you and Elliot to go over the crime scene."

"Yeah sure, just let me call someone to stay with the kids. What's the address?"

"2168 East Redwood, St. Genesius,'" he explained.

"All right, thanks Captain," she said before hanging up the phone and standing, realization hitting her like a bullet, comprehending freezing her blood cold. St. Genesius. Erin's school. One of her classmates. Dead. Not allowing herself any more time to ponder this, she forced herself to get up, silencing the swirling thoughts.

"Casey," she said into the phone while tugging a pair of socks on.

"Olivia, hey, as much as I love you, I have to say these calls are becoming despicably frequent. The phone company probably thinks I'm pretty popular for booty calls," she sarcastically spitfired. Even the morning couldn't kill her wit.

"I'm sorry, it's just-"

"I'm kidding, Benson, I'll be over there in ten minutes tops, just hang tight."

"Thanks, Case, I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," she said killing the line, getting ready to drag herself over to the detective's apartment.

Olivia, now already up, dressed, and having a few minutes to waste, pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and sauntered to wait in the kitchen, turning a few lights on as she went.

"Morning, Benson," she heard Elliot behind her, adjusting his belt as he walked to join her in the kitchen.

"Morning," she replied.

Grabbing a glass and filling it with water; she rolled her eyes at the painstaking activity, almost tapping her foot at the slow, thin line of water leaking from the refrigerator's spout. She yawned and glanced around the room, looking around the surfaces underneath the dim artificial light mixed with the sparkles of the stars and moon. A shimmering of the counter coming from the direction by the stove caught her eye, and she made her way over to examine it.

That light was hardly ever turned on, and she hadn't flipped it on just a second ago. It was barely ever used, so why was it on now?

"Did you turn this on?" she asked over her shoulder.

Elliot shook his head with an innocent look.

She nodded and looked back at the clutter on the counter around the stove, spying nothing out of the ordinary. A candle, a half-eaten bag of chips, Erin's purse with the movie ticket still atop it, a can of cooking spray.

She wrinkled her eyebrow, now honestly curious as to what the cause of the light was. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was off with the arrangement of items. Something just felt suspicious.

She gingerly picked up the movie ticket, handling its corners and flipping it over. Upon further inspection, she noticed that the ticket was not only folded and creased (which she rationalized could have been Chris' doing), but that it was partially ripped. No, not ripped, she corrected, used. The side part used for admittance was nowhere to be found under, by, or next to the ticket. And she could bet that it wouldn't be in the house at all, just like a certain someone less than an hour ago.

"Be back in a minute," she said to Elliot, "I have to take care of something."

SVU

"Get up," Olivia demanded, harshly shaking Erin's bed.

"Mm," she was answered with an annoyed moan and the action of Erin pulling her blankets up above her head.

"Now," she commanded again, pulling the blankets down.

"What," Erin whined in a whisper, irritated at her niche being disrupted, "could you possibly want from me at," she glanced at the clock, "3:30 in the morning?"

"You mind telling me what this is?" Olivia prompted, holding up the evidence.

"A rectangle, math genius," Erin answered, slipping under the covers again.

"Erin," Olivia said annoyed.

"Fine. It's a _paper_ rectangle," she clarified.

"Dammit Erin, I'm really not kidding," Olivia replied exasperated.

Hearing and processing the soberness of her tone, Erin bit back her sarcasm and sat up, her eyes dry from sleep. She took the mysterious object in her hand and squinted to make out its propertied. "Oh, that's the movie ticket Chris left here. Remember, I told you earlier not to worry about it."

"Yeah, and you also told me you wouldn't use it," Olivia accused.

"I know…and I didn't use it," she said slowly.

"It's missing the entrance stub."

"So it is…"

"And the explanation for that is…?"

Erin shrugged candidly. "I honestly don't know. I wouldn't lie to you, I've been in here all night," she said, her eyes locked with a blank, straightforward expression.

Olivia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She was usually a pretty good judge of truthfulness, and she could sense the frankness of the defense. Finally she gave a sigh. "I believe you."

"I am telling the truth," Erin said, just to be clear.

"I know you are. Which is why this is doubly bad."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't use it and I didn't use it, so it must have been Delilah."

"Sure it wasn't Elliot?"

Olivia smirked. "Somehow I doubt that. No, it was probably just my thirteen-year-old adopted child with the skills of a ninja apparently. No one in this house heard her leave?"

"I have to say, I do find that rather impressive."

Olivia gave her a look.

"Okay not _impressive_, more like remarkable. You have to admit that is quite a feat."

Olivia did have to agree with that. "We need alarms or something. You know what, I'm too tired for more confrontation right now. I'll have to handle her tomorrow. Sorry to bother you," she said, getting ready to leave.

"Wait, where are you going? And why were you up in the first place? What, did your spidey-senses tell you something was array?"

Olivia gave a little laugh to cover up the true seriousness of the situation. She really didn't want to bring this up. Not only was this a murder, but it was a murder of someone she quite possibly could have seen only a few hours ago. In a place she'd just been in. A place that was supposed to be safe. "Just a case, don't worry about it."

"What case?"

"Erin, I really don't think you should-"

"Olivia, I just worked with you on a case a couple months ago. What's gotten you so worked up about me knowing about one?"

Olivia bit her lip, wanting to protect her from the news. No doubt she'd learn about it tomorrow, but she wanted her to have just a few more hours of naivety. Some more time with peace. Although she did have a point. She herself was just working on a case a little while ago. There she'd proven herself mature and strong enough to handle things like this. Situations and natures that were never pleasant.

"There was a teenage boy found murdered with traces of child abuse." There. That should be enough information.

"Where?"

Damn her curiosity. "A school."

"Which one?"

Olivia cleared her throat. "…yours…." She could almost see Erin's heart drop. You could tell she wasn't in a million years expecting to hear that. "But I don't want you to worry, okay? You're going to be -" she rushed to reassure.

"Who?" she asked, shooting straight up.

"Erin, please, you need to-"

"Who?" she asked again, her voice harder and more demanding.

Olivia took a step back, taking another deep breath. "Benjamin Stanton?" she said, almost like a question, praying that they had no affiliation.

Unfortunately, by the way Erin's face paled, she knew that wasn't the case. "You knew him," she said.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Well, sort of. He's my friend's boyfriend…_was_ my friend's boyfriend."

"I'm so sorry…"

Erin shook her head, trying to swallow the pill of this new information. How would Fernando take this? Well, she already knew that. He would be devastated. Distraught. Just the way he talked about him warmed her heart, and now the news he'd never be able to do that again broke it. Why would someone do this? Jealously? Fear? Hate? Ignorance? Her mind was racing. She had to figure this out. She needed him to have justice, if not for the mere fact of Fernando, the boy that was nice to her on her first day.

"Maybe it was a hate crime. He was gay, and prejudice plays a huge part of violence especially in high schools," she suggested.

"Erin-"

"Stereotypes. They cause people to do really horrible things. Maybe it was a student or-or a faculty member or something. Who found him this late at night? Question them because they could be covering-" she said quickly, breathing fast.

"Erin. Erin stop, okay? You need to calm down," Olivia said softly, taking her hands. "It's going to be okay. I know that this is scary and sad, and you want to do everything in your power to get him justice, but listen to me, all right? Stay out of it."

"But -"

"I mean it. Don't get involved. We don't want you or anyone else in danger. You need to be a good friend, but nothing else. You understand?"

Erin nodded with slight reluctance.

"Good," Olivia nodded back with finality. "Casey's going to be here in a few minutes, Elliot and I need to go. You going to be okay?"

"Fine," Erin swore. "I'll be fine. Promise."

Erin faintly remembered Olivia kissing her forehead and walking out, whispering something to Elliot and then to Casey, and the door closing behind them. She dimly heard the lock jingle on the door as she flipped and tossed and turned, trying to sleep. But all she could think of was the faceless criminal, and how much she needed him to get reprisal.

She'd promised she'd be fine, and she would, right after order was restored and justice was brought. It didn't matter to her who brought him down. She didn't care how he fell. She just needed someone's hands to pay him back for what he did.

Even if those hands were hers.

**Hey, it's me! Yeah, me, TheTBone! You remember me, right? I know it's been awhile, but in my defense I have been busy actually being productive. I'm sorry this has taken this long, but I hope you liked it! Reviews are my heroine. Seriously, I appreciate them and love them and cherish them so much! (And I just realized that sounded like wedding vows…eh, I guess that shows just how much I love them!) So yes, please review, folks! Thanks so much for your support this far! I couldn't do it without you! =)**

** **All grammar errors are mine and only mine. If you notice any, feel free to point them out (no hard feelings, I swear) and I'll fix them! =)**


	5. Encounter

**Unless Dick Wolf spontaneously decides to relinquish his franchise to me, I don't own it and probably never will. *****Sigh***

"Hey," the hoarse whisper with the coinciding knock was enough to make Erin jump and become aggravated.

She glanced at the alarm clock. Twenty minutes. A grand total of twenty minutes she had been in the dreamless hazy state between being awake and asleep. It hadn't been great, hadn't been satisfying or the release she had wanted, but after the countless, restless hours of staring at the ceiling, it was the best she could get.

"Hey," the voice said again, this time accompanied by the creek of the door handle and the slivering open of the door. "It's about time to get ready for school," the husky, foreign voice informed, a patch of red hair peeping into the room. "Think you could get up?" she asked quietly.

"Sure," Erin deadpanned. "Why not," she said, sliding her feet over to stand on the floor just to prove she was serious about rising.

Casey nodded and took this as her cue to leave, gently shutting the door and leaving the girl to herself.

She discovered that extra weight had been added everywhere when her feet touched the floor. Her feet, her arms, her eyelids, every task was taxing and every step was a step. Dragging herself out of bed, she knew she owed it to the limited amount of sleep she had gotten. She'd been thinking about something, nothing, she couldn't even remember half of her racing thoughts. The only thing she knew was that she couldn't silence them no matter how hard she'd tried.

Emotions came and went; some stayed nagging in her brain. Fear. Sadness. Anger. Disorder. Helplessness. Distress. They rushed and festered as she tossed and turned, her blankets, covers, and sheets a tangled mess, the tangible metaphor of her inner self.

She slipped out of her room, attempting to get into the bathroom unnoticed. She couldn't pinpoint the exact reason for not wanting to be seen; maybe the promise of the looks of compassion. She hated the looks of mercy, even though she knew the good intentions behind them. But she didn't want them. All she wanted was to be alone. This was a personal thing for her. It shouldn't be considering she had never even met the one who died. He should just be a normal victim for her. But somehow he wasn't. They had a mutual connection, one that didn't deserve this.

Though it was selfish, she also pitied herself. How the hell was she supposed to help Fernando with this? She wanted to help him, needed to show him support, but how was she supposed to do that? Sympathy, empathy, reassurance, what? What if he didn't come to school? Was she supposed to call him? And say what? Was that too impersonal? How about going to his house? And if he didn't want to see anyone? God knows she'd rather not see anyone right now either…

She turned on the faucet and flicked some water, dousing her face, splashing the cold liquid to her skin to try and wash away some of the numbness she was feeling. She firmly gripped the countertop, although the thing she really needed to get a grip on was herself, for everyone. For Fernando, he needed her, for Olivia, she needed to trust her, for Delilah, she needed to know that everything was fine, and for herself, she needed to reassure herself in every which way.

She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, smoothing and fixing it, mentally calming herself down. Everything would fine. Nothing would happen to her. Why would the same killer target her or anyone else just because they went to the same school? She would find a way to help Fernando. Nothing bad would happen to her, and nothing bad would happen to anyone else. Olivia and Elliot would catch the guy who did this. They always did. It would all be just fine.

Partially satisfied from her short-lived self-pep talk, she made a move to slip back into her bedroom, the thought of actually associating with anyone still not the most appealing of thoughts. She dressed, dabbed on some make-up, and grabbed her backpack with minimal energy and stiff robotics. _Time_, she thought, _the feelings won't just go away. Be patient and give yourself a break, feeling this way is normal. _

She walked out of her bedroom and into the kitchen, surprised to see the person at the table.

"Hi Casey," she said in an emotionless greeting, figuring it made sense. She was practically up all night; she most likely would have heard Elliot and Olivia's return.

"Morning, Erin. Hey, how you feeling?" Casey asked in concern, putting her own coffee cup down before standing up to grab another. The concern mixed with the gesture made Erin feel incompetent and pitied, neither of the two which made her feel comfortable.

Realizing what she was about to do, Erin jumped in. "Oh, you don't have to do that, I can get my own coffee," she said, standing up to join the older woman. Normalcy. She didn't want other people acting out of self-righteousness for her sake. All she wanted to do was busy herself to keep her mind off of the big elephant in her life.

"No, no, you sit, I got this," Casey motioned her back to the seat and made her way to the cabinet. She decided to shrug it off and play it cool, looking for a loop to change the subject and mask the all the unease threatening to make its return.

"Fine," she said plastering on a fake smile, walking over to the chair again.

"So," Casey started again, pouring the warm, brown liquid into a mug. "You never answered my question. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, couldn't be better." Erin shrugged off the question as routine and positioned herself in a chair across the table from Casey, putting the space of the wooden surface between them.

"Erin," Casey said knowingly with an unusual softness in the usually brash lawyer's voice. "You don't have to put on that act," she said, sliding the cup across the table.

"What act?" she asked innocently, playing with the mug in her hands.

"That act right there," she pointed a sympathetic but accusing finger at the teen. "The one where you're all fine and good amidst a situation like this."

"But I am fine and good. Why shouldn't I be?"

"Erin, a classmate of yours passed away at your school. Now, no, that doesn't mean you should become a hermit, quit life, and be scared of your own shadow, but it does mean that you have the right to be a little anxious."

"Well, I'm not anxious so you don't have to worry about it," Erin said guardedly, continuing to spin the cup.

"Why are you acting so defensive?" Casey inquired, her voice back to its normal tone.

"Why are you acting so condescending?" Erin spat back, her voice bitter.

"I'm not trying to be condescending, I'm trying to help you," Casey defended herself, a barely visible edge in her tone.

"I don't need your help," Erin said sharply.

"Erin," Casey rubbed her temples. "What's the point of hiding your feelings in your own house?"

"I don't know, what's the point of cross-examining me in my own house?" Erin matched.

"I'm not cross-examining you, I'm simply telling you that being apprehensive isn't a big deal, it's a normal process and I'm here for you."

"For the tenth, I'm not nervous or uneasy or anything that has to do with that, so stop putting words in my mouth, okay? And don't accuse me of things I never said! I don't need that from you, I barely even know you, so tell me what gives you the right to-" Erin rambled quickly.

"Okay-" Casey said sharply through her teeth, quickly cutting her off. Her patience obviously wasn't quite as developed as Olivia's. She took another breath. "Okay," she repeated more evenly, putting her palms up. "Let's both just calm down; it's too early for this," she sighed, putting her head in her hands. She licked her lips before the forcing next phrase to escape her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'm…sorry too. I-I didn't mean to freak out. I'm just tired I guess," she surrendered, taking a deep breath and relaxing her unconsciously tense muscles.

"Long night?" Casey asked calmly.

Erin sighed. "You could say that. By the way, where's Olivia?"

It wasn't that Erin didn't like Casey; she seemed like enough a nice person. Olivia obviously saw something in her if she felt comfortable enough to leave her with Delilah. The thing was, she just didn't know Casey all that well. Sure, they'd seen each other at the hotel last March when working on the case. And yeah, she'd prepped her for trial and made her feel relaxed enough on the stand, but she had never really talked to Casey, never really gotten to know her well enough form a solid opinion on her, so there was a little bit of automatic defense, a natural wall she felt existed between the two of them. She felt the protective instincts, the invisible barrier, between herself and the only somewhat familiar woman. She even felt the vaguely familiar urge to protect Delilah, the sibling safeguarding kicking in.

"Olivia and Elliot are at the station. They sent me a text saying they were just staying at work since they finished at the crime scene so close to when they were supposed to be at the station anyway," she explained. "Why, do you need them? Olivia told me, or actually demanded me, to have you call if you needed something or just wanted to talk. Or, you know, I'm here too," she offered the information with trivial trepidation.

"Oh, gotcha. Nah, I'm fine, just curious. Hey, why isn't Delilah out here? Because if she won't wake up you might have to threaten her with ice water or something…" she joked. _Attempting to break the ice_, she humored herself with a silent pun.

Casey laughed. "I don't think those means are going to be necessary. She has a stomachache; my guess is from greasy popcorn in the wee hours of the morning."

Erin nodded. "Olivia told you about that," she said in understanding.

Casey nodded. "Delilah did too."

"Delilah directly admitted her sneak-out. To _you_?" Erin asked skeptically.

Casey shrugged. "Don't act so surprised, I've been told that I'm a very convincing person."

"As most lawyers are," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm especially convincing. I have persistence, experience, and a terrifying stink eye."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm. Want me to demonstrate?"

"I don't know, do I?" Erin replied dryly.

"I don't care, I'm doing it anyway," she said, putting on the supposedly menacing look, giving an intense stare, her eye slitting and twitching slightly.

"Oh boy…"

"I know. I told you it's deadly."

"Dang. That was almost as scary the sight of a baby kitten."

Casey frowned. "Well that was just plain hurtful."

"Sorry, just want you to face the facts. But seriously how did you get her to give up her whereabouts? I mean I know Delilah, and she's just about as stubborn as a mule-"

"-hey look, a cliché southern saying. You were in Texas too long-"

Erin ignored her. "I changed my mind, she's worse that a mule, she's right up there with you on the stubbornness scale," she said, giving her a playful glare, warming up a little to the redhead. "But really, the point is she's freaking stubborn and I'm dying to know how you got her to give herself up so easily."

"Well, it really wasn't that eventful," Casey admitted. "She told me her stomach hurt, I asked her why; she lied for a few minutes before I did my stink eye, which worked on her thank you very much! Then I told her honesty is the best policy, she went back and forth for awhile, finally she admitted she was wrong, apologized, and I got her some medicine."

"Wait, what?" Erin asked in shock.

"I'm sorry?" Casey asked in confusion. "Was I not supposed to give her medicine? I mean I know she snuck out but I don't think that making her suffer through illness is the right way to deal with that…"

"No, no, not that. She actually admitted she was wrong to you?"

"Well…yeah, kind of."

"Wow," Erin said, taken aback. "That's pretty impressive. She must trust you."

Casey laughed, "She's sort of forced to considering how much time I spend here and-"

"No," Erin said, cutting her off. "That's not true. She trusts you because she wants to. She wouldn't say that to just anyone."

"Oh," Casey said, taken aback by the sudden turn of seriousness within the conversation. "Well then I guess that's good, right?"

Erin nodded, not sure why she felt the need to elaborate. Maybe she needed to make herself have confidence in Casey, and saying it aloud was the way to do that. Maybe she felt the need to thank Casey, to realize just how important she had been so far, a silent begging her not to leave hidden and enveloped in words of appreciation. Or maybe it was the tiny voice in the back of her head telling her that she would be vital in the future, a necessary element when more hurt occurred. Though she couldn't explain why she would say what she would next, she prepared a little speech for the benefit of a mystery.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about what I said earlier. Yelling at you, it was rude and completely uncalled for," Casey opened her mouth to say something, but Erin cut her off. "I know you're doing your best. You're doing us all a huge favor by being here. There are plenty of things that you could be doing in place of waking up in the middle of the night to babysit some random kids you barely know, and on top of that one that's constantly bitching at you. I guess what I'm trying to say in my own way is thank you for putting up with this crap. Especially for Delilah. She's had a tough life. Her family, her so-called 'friends,' all of them, just not great people. She's hot and cold, you know? She either clings to you or has nothing to do with you, and I can tell that you've been really, really good for her."

Erin looked up from her hands to gauge the reaction. Did she think she was absolutely crazy? Completely nuts for giving her this spontaneous dialect out of the blue? Instead she could see Casey nodding, connecting, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she said nothing in return yet. She had more to say and Casey somehow knew this, letting her take a break for a second to reload and prepare for the hardest part.

"I have a hard time trusting people sometimes," she admitted. "I don't know why exactly. It's not like I have this tragic past or anything, but I do. I guess that I'm…scared of getting hurt, or maybe just don't see the point in getting close to anyone. And I know that you probably think saying this is dramatic and stupid, and you probably don't care, but I do. Trust you, I mean. And I guess that's about all I wanted to say," Erin licked her lips in segue, clearing her throat. "So, you know, thanks for the heart-to-heart, but I should probably get going now," Erin quickly wrapped up the conversation, an involuntary blush creeping into her cheeks after the patchy declaration.

"Wait," Casey instructed, standing up, "just wait a minute. You can't just dump something like that on someone and leave."

"Sorry, did it come across really heavy? I just wanted you to know that-"

"No, no, it didn't come across as anything," Casey reassured. "Listen, thank you for that."

"For what? I didn't do anything…"

"Yes you did," Casey said without hesitation. "Yes you did," she repeated. "And I feel so…honored that you trust me enough to talk to me and confide in me. Feel free to do it again; it really boosts my own, already unhealthily-high, opinion of myself. And thanks for giving me a chance to begin with. Believe it or not I can come across a little…aggressive."

"Psh, who would ever think that?" Erin asked sarcastically.

Casey shrugged and rolled her eyes "Idiots I guess," she said in a faux-obvious manner.

"Speaking of idiots, I really did act like a complete tool earlier for yelling at you. I know you were just trying to help."

"Don't worry about it," Casey waved it off. "Everybody snaps, and I'm not saying that it was right, but under the circumstances it was more than understandable. And I get what you're going through. I have a feeling we handle stress in a similar manner."

"Busying yourself with so much that you're forced to forget about it?" Erin suggested.

"That would be the way."

"Then you're absolutely right," Erin said, glancing at the clock. "Oh, shoot, while this little powwow was great, I really do have to get to school now."

"Yeah, I guess education is somewhat important…well, that and Olivia would probably kill me if I didn't properly transport you to your place of learning."

"All right," Erin sighed. "Let's get this over with."

SVU

The mood was somber. Walking into the school, Erin could hear nothing above murmurs and whispers. Friends huddled together, some crying, some biting their lips, some swaying back and forth anxiously.

Erin wondered how many of them would have cared on any other day. It was amazing how people suddenly started giving a damn once something serious happened. Maybe this would be a healthy slap in the face for some of the wealthier, more superior and entitled students. Girls who had been wrinkling their noses at the sight of she and Fernando were now sniffling. Boys who had smirked at them now wore stone-faced, tight-lipped expressions. What an awful, powerful effect the losing of a life could have. Reducing normally stiff people down, stripping them of their comfort and security, making them feel the impact one person could have.

She walked with the backpack thrown over her shoulder, looking at the figures in the hallways and spying a pair of police officers carrying crime scene tape and notebooks. Her heart fluttered for a brief moment, wondering if it was Elliot and Olivia. Though she hated to admit it since it felt so childish, she could really use some reassurance right now. What she would do for a small act of constant, consistent, and rational calmness amidst all of this foreignness. It was only her second day for God's sake. She had talked to barely anyone, had absolutely no normal time to get adjusted to a new routine, and all the sudden she was thrown into the middle of a death, the death of a person that happened to be her only friend's previous lover. Yes, even simply sharing a look with Olivia would make her feel about fifty times better. But alas, the cops were a young blonde man and a freckled redheaded woman driving each step with purpose. _Must be rookies, _Erin thought.

She silently slid her books into her locker, wordlessly pulling off her jacket and latching the metal cubby shut once again, leaning against the cold material and closing her eyes.

She was exhausted. Physically and mentally tired, and the day had just begun.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her eyes snap open in acknowledgement.

"Fernando," she said quietly, pulling him into a hug once she caught sight of his battered form. It was a risky move, she knew, but she couldn't think of anything else, and when he didn't immediately pull away she continued the gesture.

"How you doing?" she asked, stepping back and fully assessing the damage. And she thought she felt bad. His eyes were bloodshot from tears and fatigue, dark, bruise-like, sideways crescents were present under his eyes, his eyes were puffy and swollen, his posture hunched and lazy.

He shrugged. Even after a day she knew that this was not usual for the outgoing and usually prim, polished, and proper person.

Erin nodded and bit her lip, unsure of what her next move should be. "Do you-do you want to sit down?" she suggested, afraid he wouldn't be able to hold his own weight as time progressed.

He shrugged again, the life in his eyes completely gone; the once vibrant auburn now a cloudy, murky brown puddle.

Erin nodded. This shrugging/nodding nonsense needed to stop. They would get absolutely nowhere alternating between shrugging and nodding. _Think, _she told herself, _what would Olivia do in this situation? She always knows what to do with things like this. _

"Okay, let's go somewhere more private," she suggested, leading him back through a separate hallway, not exactly sure to which one, only knowing that it was far, far away from the music wing. "Okay," she sighed, sliding down the slippery brick and onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chin and hugging her legs. "This is better."

She looked over at her troubled friend. Seeing his eyes were still glassy and staring mindlessly at a point on the wall, she gently touched his hand, making him flinch. "Hey, I get if you don't want to talk, and it's fine if you don't. You can talk or I can talk or we just sit here and say nothing, doesn't matter. Whatever is going to help you is what needs to be done. You just need to tell me so I can do it."

She was met with silence and eyes staring into hers.

"Just-just tell me what you want and I promise I'll do it."

Silence.

She was getting choked up now. All of her stress and his stress of now and earlier and the fear of the added stress of the future were enough to make her voice misty. She was getting frustrated, and angry tears were precipitating and threatening to spill.

"Anything, I swear," she pleaded. She needed answers. No, she just needed a response.

Nothing.

She swallowed. "Okay, I can just leave you alone then. But if you-" she started to stand.

"Please stay," a familiar voice whispered, a shaky hand touched her arm. "Please just sit here with me."

Erin nodded and complied, kneeling back down to lean next to him, both sitting in silence, suffering together.

"I'm really sorry," Erin finally said. "That probably sounds completely pointless, but I thought you should know."

Fernando nodded, a sign recognition and appreciation.

"I do not think I will be able to continue," Fernando admitted honestly.

Erin slipped her hand into his. "But you will."

Fernando shook his head. "I do not know."

"I do. I believe that you're strong enough to get through anything."

"But you do not understand. We were friends since we were five. I have never had a life with him not there. I have never known a world with him not in it."

"But he's still here, Fernando. He's still with you in everything you do. You have to remember him for the good things and the happy memories, not the tragic ending. Everyone is born and everyone passes, it's the things in the middle that matter, and those are the things that you have to count on to get you through all the bad."

"How will I move on?"

Erin sighed and licked her lips, contemplating how to answer, knowing she didn't even have it, couldn't tell him the secret to grieving if she wanted to. So she improvised, relied on prior advice to form this advice. "Look, I know it seems impossible, and this is going to be really, really hard, but you're so brave and strong that I know that you can do this. I just know that you can," she said with conviction.

"But what if…" he stuttered. "What if I do not want to live with him not here?"

Erin's heart dropped. "No," she said sternly.

"Maybe it would be easier-"

"-quit that-"

"-would not have to deal with the aftermath-"

"-don't-"

"-so much simpler. No more pain-"

"No!" Erin said firmly. "Stop it! You cannot just do that. You are not allowed to say those things or think that!" she cried hysterically. "Can't you see that people love you? Can't you see that I need you damn it?" she screamed, tears now creeping out from the mere thought of him stopping his own life short.

There was silence as she gasped to catch her breath.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you. I did not mean it," he apologized.

Erin gained control of her breathing, feeling her muscles loosen. "Promise?" her voice cracked.

"Yes."

"Swear to me right now that no matter how bad it gets, no matter what your brain tells you, you talk to me or your parents or someone about it-"

" -but-"

"No," she cut him off. "No excuses. You have to swear to me."

He cleared his throat. "I swear."

Erin sighed. "Good."

A pause in conversation.

"It will not be easy," he stated.

"No it won't," she admitted. "But you'll do it. There's going to be times you'll want to give up, and there'll be times where you'll think you're fine, and then all the sudden you're going to feel sad for no reason. Something will remind you of him and you'll crack a little, break down. And that's okay, it's normal. But the one thing you need to know is you won't go through it alone. For what's it's worth you're going to have me. Every step of the way."

Fernando stared at his hands. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

A few minutes came and went without notice.

"We should get to class," Fernando said, standing up.

Erin looked up at him in surprise. "Are you sure? Because I'll sit here with you as long as you want. Sure, Olivia will be ticked at first, but she'll get over it if I miss a little class."

"Yes," Fernando said with certainty. "Benji would not have wanted my grades to drop. And you are right. I need to continue on with my life. That is what he would have wanted."

"That's what he wants now," Erin reassured. "He never left you. He's still with you here, his body just isn't. He won't ever forget you, just like you'll never forget him."

Fernando nodded and miraculously cracked a semblance of a smile. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

"Never forget, always love," he said before opening his eyes and walking next to her to class.

**I am ashamed to admit that my updates are seriously pathetic. Sorry, but it's the end of the year so please cut me a little slack. As much as I hate it, real life has to come first (**_**sigh)**_**, and my real life has been extremely hectic. **

** Thank you so much for the reviews! You all never cease to amaze me with your kind words of encouragement! You might not see the correlation between them and the updates, but I promise you, they are so inspiring and push myself to write (even now at 1:56 in the morning.) Thank you so much! Tell me what you thought. Sorry if this chapter didn't hold your interesting, but big things to come in the next few. (There'll be some major drama in a big story arc coming up within the span of the next three chapters or so! Whoop!) So please don't give up on this even if you are disappointed with my updating skills (or lack thereof)!**

** P.S- [Some shameless advertisement. Couldn't resist.] LadyRiss and I collaborating on a story right now called 'Forgotten Nightmare' on TheTLadies account. We'd both love if you'd check it out. Thanks!**

** **Errors are mine and only mine. Feel free to point them out, grammar sticklers! I won't bite!**


	6. Funeral

**Hey I don't know you, **

** And this is crazy**

** But I love SVU**

** Give me it maybe? (To: Dick Wolf) So, in less entertaining and catchy words…I don't own…**

Olivia and Elliot stood side-by-side in front of the grand entrance to the mansion. It was a rather beautiful sight, really. There was a garden with multicolored flowers, many trees with tiny leaves, a mixture of light greens and ones beginning to turn various shades of the familiar fall palette. Intricate yellows, reds, and oranges fluttered about. The scent of the plants made it a pleasant smell for the two detectives as they stood on the large cement slab, the destination from the pathways of rocks. They heard the trickling of a fountain and saw the twinkling reflection of the sun upon the lightly shimmering waters. Their nostrils inhaled the sweet scent of a freshly watered garden, and the air tasted of the new, fall season. It would have been a happy affair if not for the motive for coming to the seemingly lovely place and the anticipation of the visit they were about to endure.

Olivia rang the bell of the Stanton residence. They heard the melodic chime of the doorbell behind the heavy mahogany barrier before the door swung open and they were met with soft blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The woman was small in every sense of the word. Her waist was skinny, her stature short, her nose, ears, and every other feature of her face tiny. Her eyes were aged, but momentarily wide in concern. An eyebrow wrinkled on the woman that looked to be in her mid-forties.

"Mrs. Stanton?" Olivia asked in confirmation, examining the pale, thin female before her.

She continued looking at Olivia with the same wide-eyed look, but nodded slightly at the mention of her last name.

"My name's Olivia and this is my partner, Elliot. We're here to investigate your son's case," she informed as gently and as precisely as possible, trying to make her feel as at ease as humanly possible after she had just lost a child.

She continued to stare for a second before a flicker of understanding clicked across her face. "Oh, yes, I'm so sorry. Please, do come in," she said, apologizing profusely, opening the door wider and slowly leading them into her house.

"Thank you, Ms. Stanton," Elliot said graciously.

"Oh, Elizabeth. Please," she corrected gently, leading them further into her home, the 'small' portion consisting of a marble floor with a double staircase up both sides of the lobby area. "Um," she stopped short, putting her finger to her lips in thought, "sorry, I'm just not sure where to go. This place is a mess. Flowers and casseroles everywhere," she explained, a whimper in the grieving mother's voice. "How about the living the room," she suggested jumpily, looking rushed for time.

She sat down on a sofa, her leg shaking in her sleek pumps. She smoothed her pencil skirt and the imaginary wrinkles from her rosy pink sweater. "I apologize for the mess," she said again.

"It's fine, Elizabeth," Olivia reassured.

"No, really, it's not," she said, upset. "I'm not going to be able to focus knowing the state this place is in. George would just be in ruins if he knew I let guests see the utter chaos of this room" she said, picking at a lose thread on her skirt, her eyes anxious and wide.

"All right then, no big deal. Why don't we go some place you do feel comfortable, okay?" Olivia suggested, concerned at the hyperactive state the woman seemed to be in.

This seemed to calm her down considerably, and she jumped off the sofa, reacting as quickly as a child would if they put their hands on a hot stove.

Elizabeth nodded and took a deep breath. "How about we just go into the parlor then," she suggested, leading them past a kitchen and dining room. Olivia and Elliot shared a look of alarm at the anxiety-ridden host as they followed the apprehension-filled leader into a room. The room was filled with various rugs and numerous works of very expensive looking artwork. However, the most striking things in the room were the oddest as well. There were instruments everywhere. Music-makers of all sorts scattered around the area. A clarinet, flute, cello, oboe, a glossy grand piano, and a shiny trombone – all of them sat on various shelves of shiny wood and metal. However, the most prestigious and shining instrument sat on a shelf all of its own. A brown violin brilliantly stood in the middle of the room next to a used, old, and well-kempt padded chair.

"This is beautiful," Olivia said in awe, eying all of the precious materials.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, a touch of pride in her strained voice. "My children are very musical. They get their talent from their father. They both wish to follow in his footsteps and become world-renown in a famous orchestra," she said, placing her hand gently over the violin, stroking it with the pads of her fingers, "Benjamin especially. It's always been his dream to play concert professionally. He is good at all of the instruments, but violin is by far his favorite," she said, abruptly stopping the motion that seemed to be soothing her. "Was his favorite," she said quietly, her eyes wandering blankly through the shiny material of the violin. Her face quickly drained of color. Olivia, noticing the new paleness of the woman, began to talk again.

"Why don't we sit down," she suggested, softly placing a hand on her elbow and directing her to the davenport surrounded by the many memories of her son.

Elizabeth conceded, allowing Olivia to lead her to the sofa, and took a seat. Elliot followed behind the two, sitting next to his partner after the other two had sat.

Olivia took out her notepad and cleared her throat. "Elizabeth, can you tell us where you were yesterday night?" she asked, looking up at the woman's expression. Her face looked a mixture of weary and pained, filled with poignancy and regret.

"Do we have to do this right now?" she asked anxiously, her fingers fiddling and her eyes darting between the two detectives.

"I'm sorry, but it's procedure," Olivia said apologetically, hating making the grieving mother sound like a perpetrator, but knowing that the line of questioning was necessary for the forwarding of the investigation. "So, where were you last night?"

"I was at home."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"Jonathon was with me."

"And Jonathon is…?"

"My youngest son."

Olivia nodded. "And where was your husband?"

Elizabeth's pale face now was tinted with a shade of red, and she began to rub her perspiration-soaked palms over her skirt. "Uh, out. He was out. At work," she stumbled, hesitation between each phrase, her leg now bobbing.

Olivia nodded, unconvinced, making a mental note about the faultiness of the alibi. "And what did you do?"

"Same thing as always. I helped Jonathon with his homework. Cleaned the house. Made supper. George called and said he would be late, that he was held up at a dinner."

"And who is George?"

"My husband."

Olivia crinkled her eyebrows. "I thought you said he was at work last night."

Elizabeth's eyes got wide. "He was. I mean, it was a work function. The dinner was part of it. I mean, he was having dinner with some people he worked with," she stated, as if trying to remember a line, and then nodded as if she finally got her memorized facts straight.

Noticing the vacillation in her voice, Olivia looked into her eyes, seeing right through the untruth. "Are you sure?" she asked, lifting her eyebrow slightly.

"Yes. I'm sorry; I'm just under stress from the tragedy. I'll do anything to help you," she said with fluctuation in the declaration.

"You'll do anything to help us?" Elliot spoke up for the first time.

"Absolutely. He was my son," Elizabeth said, pain evident as she spoke.

"Then why are you lying to us?" Elliot demanded.

"I'm not-"

"Bull shit." Elliot accused, standing up.

"Elliot-" Olivia stated his name, trying to calm him down.

Elizabeth's leg continued to bounce. "Is my husband home?" she asked in a tone that sounded suspiciously like that of a victim to Olivia.

"Why?" Olivia asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I just- I'd feel better knowing where he was. I mean- I want him here," she corrected quickly.

It didn't slip through Olivia's notice the way she covered for herself.

"Is something wrong?" Olivia asked dubiously.

"No," she said skittishly, shaking her head. "I- I'm sorry."

"Was he involved?" Elliot asked bluntly.

"Of course not," she defended weakly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes-"

"And you're positive that he didn't have something to do with the killing of your child?" Elliot asked, getting more riled.

"Elizabeth, if something's going on with your husband, you need to tell us," Olivia said persuasively, her placidity vastly contrasting to Elliot's brashness.

"No, no, everything's fine. I just need to know where he is," she voiced rapidly, her eyes flitting to Elliot again, her panicked pupils scurrying nervously in his direction.

"You covering for him?" Elliot demanded. "You going to chose him over your own flesh and blood?"

"No! I don't need to cover for anyone! No one did anything!"

"Your son is dead, someone did something!" Elliot spat back.

"I swear, I didn't do anything! I mean, I don't know anything I promise!" Elizabeth sobbed, her mascara starting to run.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Olivia said, attempting to assuage the near-hysterical woman, simultaneously trying to catch Elliot's eye and tell him to stop pushing her for fear of her going over the edge.

"This is about your son, Elizabeth! And if you need us to help we need straight answers! Unless you were part of it too," he suggested, his face turning red.

"No!" she said, gasping in breathlessness and pain.

"You were his mother, Elizabeth! You were his mother and you let this happen and now you won't even let us help you convict the man who did it!"

"Elliot, enough!" Olivia scolded, placing a hand on his arm. She looked into his eyes, and tried to relax him. "You need to calm down. Go outside, get some fresh air, clear your head, take a breather, and then come back, all right?"

"Liv-"

"Now," she said firmly, not wanting this to get out of hand.

Elliot nodded and swallowed, wiping his forehead with his hand as he ventured out into the hallway.

"What in God's name is going on?" an average height, slightly paunchy man questioned, passing Elliot in the hallway and walking into the parlor.

"George," Elizabeth said, "you're home." Though Olivia didn't think it was possible, she saw the woman's eyes fill with even more dread than before, and she knew something had to happen before she would talk or even get back to a normal blood pressure again.

"Mr. Stanton, I'm detective Benson, you just passed my partner, detective Stabler, in the hallway. We're here to ask you some questions about last night."

"You mean the night I lost my son," he asked coldly, his eyes piercing Olivia.

"Yes," she said with trepidation, immediately discomforted by the man's icy tone. "I'm sorry," she tried to make amends for whatever she did to make him instantly dislike her.

"And that still won't change the fact that he's gone and New York's finest did nothing to prevent it," he spat in a bitter and sarcastic tone.

"Again, I'm very sorry. I do need to briefly ask you a few questions though."

"I'm not about to answer your petty questions."

"Oh, I think you will," Olivia snapped, tired of the games the rude man was trying to play. "Now we can to this here, or we can do this at the station, your choice."

"I'm sorry, but since when does some police have the right to barge in here anyway and pelt my family and me with questions and treat us like some low-life scum-bag criminals? Not to mention some woman thinks she's allowed to prance in here and think she has any business asking questions to a man and demanding answers. "

Shocked, Olivia's jaw hung open slightly. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me girl," he jeered.

Olivia bit her lip, maintaining composure. "I'll tell you what. I'll go get my partner to ask you some questions. He's a man, so he's stronger and I'll bet you think much more qualified than I am. I'll stay in here with your wife, and we'll talk about baking and sewing and everything that we're supposed to be talking about – woman's work, you know? Sound good?" She asked sarcastically, a challenging look in her eyes, an underlying anger in her tone. This guy and his complete disregard for the feminist movement was already under her skin and he'd been in the room for about two minutes. Who dared to say she wasn't as good as anyone else?

She thanked God Elliot hadn't been in the room for this. He would have without a doubt been all over this son of a bitch. And the thing was, she probably wouldn't have been able to force herself to blame or stop him from giving this pig what he deserved.

"Sounds perfect, bitch," he sneered dangerously in her ear, getting precariously close – to close for her liking.

Olivia nodded, hating to have to break the stare down, and then went outside to go and fetch Elliot.

"Hey killer, I need you to question a suspect. And I suggest you try and control yourself before Cragen and the brass have your badge and ass. Think you can behave yourself?"

Elliot sighed in frustration. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

"Yeah, well me neither, but right now that doesn't matter. What matters is we have George in there, and we need to question him, so let's go," she said, ushering him back in the house.

"You pissed, Benson?"

"Well, gee El, I don't know. You just freaked out at a mourning mother and now she may not give us anything else for fear of you, I'm in desperate need of some coffee, and it's only about nine in the morning, so, no, I'm feeling awesome. Really, grade A," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

"Liv," he tried before she shook her head and continued strutting towards the Stanton parents. "Liv," he said more rigid and desperately, stopping her with his hand when she ignored him the first time. "I really am sorry. I know it's no excuse, I'm just feeling pressure. I don't mean to treat you like shit, and I'm sorry for taking advantage of you and making you suffer. I don't regret what I said, but I never meant to piss you off."

Olivia nodded at his apology. "It's fine. And I'm not encouraging you to do anything violent, but let's just say it wouldn't be the end of the world to me if you accidently bumped his head escorting him into the squad car."

"Oh, you're condoning unnecessary roughness? This guy must be bad."

"He's a real winner, so don't be too afraid to kick his ass. Just a little bit. For me, okay?"

"Anything for you," he said, smiling slightly.

Olivia nodded, straight-faced and determined. "Good. Now we got work to do."

SVU SVU SVU

"I'm very sorry about the way George talked to you. He's just very…old fashioned when it comes to domesticity," Elizabeth said, still sitting on the couch, looking more at ease since it was just her and Olivia, but more embarrassed as well.

"Don't worry about it," Olivia brushed off the words.

"It was out of line. His calling you a…well, him using those words when all you're doing is your job - it was uncalled for."

"Trust me, Elizabeth. I've been called much worse. I'm not worried about it," Olivia said with a small smirk.

Elizabeth nodded and pulled at her sweater, her eyes downcast, looking ashamed.

"But I am worried about you," Olivia said gently, concern etched into her forehead.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I saw the look you got when your husband came in the room," Olivia explained.

"And?"

"It's the same look I see with a lot of victims."

Elizabeth's face blushed, her teeth moved to bite her lip, and her hand went tugging on her sleeve again.

"Did George ever hurt you, Elizabeth?"

"No," she denied automatically and without emotion.

"He never harmed you? Never touched you, or injured you?"

"Of course not," she dissuaded.

Olivia calmly reached over and tenderly pushed up her sleeve. Realizing she was caught, Elizabeth allowed the gesture, instead shifting her hand and focus to biting her nail. Olivia lifted the fabric, cradling her wrist, revealing a purplish bruise the perfect match to an average man's hand. "Then where did you get this?" Olivia inquired, looking into her eyes.

She continued nibbling on her finger. "He would never hurt me on purpose. He loves us. He provides for us, goes out and makes the money so we can pay the bills and live this lifestyle."

"While you stay at home and take care of the house and kids," Olivia finished, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.

"That's what I was supposed to be doing. That's what we agreed on. Stay at home, save myself for him. He didn't like it when other guys looked at me. He got jealous."

"And when he's jealous, he's violent. He takes out his insecurities on you."

"I broke the vows. I was supposed to be obedient to him. But I picked a fight. I brought it upon myself and got what I deserved."

"And when Benjamin wasn't obedient to him, he got what he deserved," Olivia said, attempting to get some answers, though she hated not dealing with the immediate problem at the first mention. This woman had been abused. She instinctively needed to go into that. But she knew that part would have to wait if she wanted anything more about Benjamin. Anything at all before she completely shut down.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "No, George would never hurt him. He was always his shining star, he'd never touch him."

"He hurt you, Elizabeth," she said, "What makes you think he wouldn't do the same to your son?"

"Because I know where he was last night," she blurted, covering her mouth with a dainty hand directly after the confession.

"Okay. Where?" Olivia prodded.

"I…I can't."

"Elizabeth, you have to. If your husband did have something to do with the murder and you hid his whereabouts, you could be charged with accessory. You could go to prison. And then what would happen to your other child?" The comment was below the belt, Olivia knew that, but it was also a healthy slap-in-the-face, a much-needed reality check for the woman.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, her hands shaking at the mention of the fate of her other son.

"Please," Olivia tried again.

"You can never tell my husband I told you. He'd kill me."

"I promise, he'll never hurt you again," Olivia reassured, looking expectantly at the blonde.

Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. "George was raised in a very traditional home. He'd always been the one who felt the need to provide for his family. I had my role and he had his. It was controversial; my friends thought I was crazy, and most people don't agree, but it was never a problem until a few months ago. He was the boss, but he was always respectful enough. He treated me decently. Provided for me. But then it became too much. He got…controlling."

"Why?"

"Around January, George started acting differently. He became distant, rigid; he yelled constantly, had violent, frequent mood swings. He'd never acted that way before; I didn't know what to do. Finally I convinced him to go to the hospital. There they diagnosed him with schizophrenia."

"Did he go on medication?"

"He refused. Said that he didn't need it. That he was a real man, and he could do it without a prescription. He promised to handle himself. He told me that he'd be fine. Not to worry, that he was still him."

"But he wasn't."

"No," Elizabeth admitted. "He'd use other drugs. He'd drink. He'd show up to work drunk, high, that is if he could force himself to get up and go to work at all. Eventually he got fired. That made things worse. He felt like a failure. So he'd drink more. He'd go to bars, get in fights, pick up prostitutes and do God only knows what else."

"And meanwhile you're here trying to hold everything and everyone together."

"But I got selfish," she admitted. "I was sick of always taking care of everything all the damn time. I needed to do something for myself. So last night I snuck out of the house. Got dressed up. Went to a club. Just me. Around two I made my way back to the house. He met me on the porch."

"And when he realized where you'd been he got aggressive."

"He started screaming at me, telling me I was his and only his. Asking if I'd been sleeping around, how long I'd been doing this. I promised him it was the first time, but he didn't believe me. He pushed me into a wall, called me a whore. He grabbed my wrist, that's how I got the bruises. I felt so powerless; I almost couldn't bear to look at him. But then I saw a look in his eyes. They were bloodshot, ravaging, controlling. It was almost sadistic. They were glassed over and vicious."

"Drugs."

Elizabeth nodded. "He said I'd better not think of doing this again. That he had connections now. He found an easy way to make cash, and that if I didn't start treating him better I'd find myself on the street or dead. That he met people that could kill me at any moment and make it look like an accident if I didn't follow orders." By now the blonde was shaking, tears of fear streaming from her face.

Olivia wanted desperately to console the frightened person next to her, but knew she needed to push just a little harder to get what she needed. "And where was George yesterday night?"

"He told me he was working with a drug cartel. Transporting and storing drugs. Said they got a big shipment and they'd be filthy rich from all the stuff they'd gotten. He only leaked it to scare me. And it worked. I was going to go to the police, I swear, but he threatened to kill me if I told. He told me he could get rid of me without a trace with his new crowd. I was just scared, I didn't know what to do," she defended quickly.

"It's understandable, safety comes first," Olivia reassured, putting her hands out in assurance.

Elizabeth nodded. "Are we done yet?" she asked in a mousy voice, no doubt worn from the past minutes, days, hell, probably even years knowing what she'd been living with.

"Almost," Olivia comforted, sending her a slight smile. "Did George tell you where they stored their stash?"

"Um, a warehouse. On some food street. Uh, Gourd, that's it. Gourd Avenue," Elizabeth remembered.

"Thank you, that's going to be very helpful when we prosecute."

"Prosecute?"

"Well, yes. We can't just let him off the hook for buying and selling narcotics."

"He's going to jail?"

"If what you said matches up with the narcotics division's investigation, we'll have no choice but to report it to the DA's office and take him into custody," Olivia admitted.

"But he's sick. Shouldn't he be in a hospital or a rehab? He needs help, not punishment." Elizabeth asked with concern.

"Elizabeth, he's been manipulating you for years. Why are you so dead-set on protecting him?" Olivia asked, confused. She'd seen it before, battered woman protecting their abusers, but never had she heard them suggest something as specific as psychiatric treatment. Well, any time but once.

"Because he's ill. Now, I'm not too thrilled with his actions myself, but doesn't he at least deserve to heal, not be rebuked for what he couldn't control?"

At that moment, the look in the woman's pale blue eyes were replicated, parallel to a look she'd seen before in a pair of dark green ones. The situation was similar as well. An overly compassionate woman protecting her ailing loved one, one too selfish to do anything for the one that cherished them so dearly.

"Listen, it's ultimately not up to me, but I'll tell you what, I'll talk to our DA about pursuing the case with a plea of mental illness. I can't promise it'll go through, but if it does, that should reduce the charges and get him some help."

"Do you think they would do that?"

"Knowing our DA, I can guarantee she'll work her ass off," Olivia swore, thinking of Casey and her tumultuous relationship with her schizophrenic ex-boyfriend, Charlie. She always got close to cases like these, but she couldn't blame her. Everyone had their cases, the one that hit harder on them than others. Olivia's weak spot: fatherless people living with a parent with an addiction. Elliot: children, mainly girls. Finn: immigrants, people of all ethnicities. The list really went on for what make them tick. And this was a job for Casey Novak. But right now, she needed to do her job. "But I do have another concern."

"What's that?"

"You."

"Really, I'm fine."

"Elizabeth, your husband is in the middle of a really screwed up mess. You've been abused. Your son just passed away. You can't honestly tell me you're fine," Olivia said, waiting for the reality to sink in.

"Okay, so maybe not fine. But I'll survive it."

Olivia raised an eyebrow.

"I will. I promise."

Olivia shook her head. "Will you press charges?"

"On whom?"

"George."

"No."

"Elizabeth, this can give you power. Prosecuting him can give you a voice and tell him that domestic violence is not okay."

"And I understand that. But that's not what I want."

"Elizabeth-" Olivia said, almost admonishingly.

"Detective, please. I understand you are trying to help, but I'm already under enough stress and drama without going to court. And I don't blame George for what he did. It was the drugs, the illness, that wasn't him. He hasn't been him for a long time."

Olivia nodded. She hated that she was giving up this easily, but she did understand where she was coming from. She was disappointed, but it did make sense, and pressure was just going to cause resentment. So she decided to just use precautionary measures instead.

"All right. Well, here's my card. You call me if you need anything at all. Even if it's just to talk. Promise?"

"Promise."

Olivia nodded and offered another small smile. "Okay," she said, standing up from the sofa to go find Elliot and share their new-found information.

"Detective," Elizabeth said, still sitting on the couch.

"Yes?" Olivia turned around to meet the face of the woman.

"Thank you. For everything."

Olivia's lips curved upwards. "Don't mention it. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Elizabeth nodded and sighed, and as Olivia exited she saw something out the corner of her eye. She saw the blonde woman stroking the handle of the violin. Olivia hoped she'd would have the strength to carry on. For everyone's sake.

SVU SVU SVU

"So. How was school?" Olivia asked casually, sitting next to Erin on the couch, both starting blankly at the television in front of them. Neither was paying attention to the program, instead their minds were occupied by bigger issues.

"You know. As good as to be expected I suppose," Erin answered.

"That's good I guess."

"Yeah," Erin answered. She wasn't really in the mood to talk, but then again Olivia was trying to spark some conversation. It would be rude to just leave her hanging like that. "How was work?"

Olivia shrugged. "Fine. The usual," usually she would elaborate further, but this was fragile, and she didn't want Erin finding out any more information than absolutely necessary.

"Any leads? Where'd you guys go?"

And then came the inevitable infamous Erin questions. "Uh, the Stanton residence. No leads as of yet," Olivia said, trying to pass is off as mundane though in reality it had been anything but. But she wasn't lying. And she knew there was a very high chance Erin would pry.

"Oh. Well that sucks," was the only reply, partially surprising Olivia considering the usually nosiness of the teen.

"Yeah, but it was only the first day. I'm sure we'll find something out soon," she reassured.

"Maybe."

The short replies were beginning to get concerning. This was most certainly not normal. Not that she expected the usually bubbly and bright behavior today, but Olivia was worried about the depressed mood.

"Want to talk about anything?" Olivia asked, making a move to gently push back some of the younger girl's hair.

Erin pulled away in an involuntary flinch. She spaced out for yet another time that day, and the sudden touch was enough to jolt her out of daze. "Oh, no, I'm good," she said, smiling apologetically for the spastic attack. "For now, I'm good," she added, consoling the older woman. She was publically and outwardly recognizing a problem, and that was going to have to be good enough for now. "Listen, I'd really love to chat, but with it being the beginning of school and all, I haven't gotten the most sleep, and I'm feeling really tired and-"

"I get it, long day," Olivia sympathized. "It dragged on for me too. Want to call it an early night? Elliot will probably want his couch/bed soon anyway, and Delilah's winding down in the shower."

"Yeah, sounds good. I think we all need some rest."

"I think you're right."

"Well," Erin said, standing up, "good night then. Tell Elliot I said good night, okay?"

"Sure, yeah, of course," Olivia nodded.

"I guess I'll see you in the-"

"Whoa, whoa, no hugs?" Olivia asked, mock offended, the joke covering up for the much deeper reasoning. She was going through her own personal hell seeing Erin in so much confusion and insecurity. She needed to offer some comfort, even under the hoax of humor.

Erin allowed herself a half-hearted laugh and made her way over to the detective. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right," she said, taking her into her arms. "I suppose I'll forgive you…eventually."

Erin closed her eyes, and she could feel a pressure being lifted slightly, a little weight taken off of her shoulders. For the first time in awhile she felt truly safe, and like everything would be all right. If only she could stay in Olivia's arms. Usually she would feel embarrassed and childlike, but tonight, she allowed herself peace for just a moment. Wrapped in Olivia's embrace, the cruel world drifted away. Safe and sound for the time being. Serenity for a second.

SVU SVU SVU

Her side table quivered, and Olivia sighed. She was getting pretty damn sick of the constant vibrating of this cell phone. She once again managed to resist the urge to chuck it out the window, and instead jabbed the button with the intent to make the inanimate object suffer, and pressed it to her ear.

"Captain?"

"Olivia, sorry to wake you, but we got another body dump."

"Where?" She asked the location, rubbing her eyes.

"On East Redwood, St. Genisus again," Cragen said with a sigh.

"Again?" Olivia asked with piqued concern. What the hell was going on there, and was Erin going to be safe going back?

"Afraid so. I'm calling Elliot now. I'll see you two there."

"All right, thanks Captain," Olivia said before hanging up. She debated telling him not to bother and that she could wake him, but didn't know how she felt about their superior knowing they were bunking together for the week. Not that they were doing anything wrong, but the jokes from when Munch and Fin would inevitably find out would be merciless, and she didn't really want that for Elliot or herself.

She got changed and heard Elliot getting up and talking in muffled whispers to the Captain on the line. She grabbed her keys, gun, badge, and realized she needed to call Casey.

She bit her lip as she dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hi."

"It's Olivia."

"Oh really? I thought it was my regular two a.m booty call. 'It's Olivia,' well you don't say," she quipped sarcastically.

"Booty calls every single night? Well, who am I to judge… Anyway, I hate to do this again, but I kind of need you to come over. I'm really sorry," she said sincerely. She hated bothering the poor ADA because of her spontaneous hours.

Casey must have picked up on the honesty in her voice. "Eh, don't worry about it. I'll be over in a second."

"Thanks, Case," she said, hanging up and joining Elliot in the living room, seeing Erin walking out of her room, rubbing her eyes.

"What are you guys doing?" she asked tiredly.

"We got a case, we have to go. Casey's coming though. Go back to sleep, hon," Olivia demanded softly, guiding her back to the room.

"Where did it happen?"

Olivia shot a nervous glance at Elliot, being met with a helpless look. Telling the truth would freak her out, but lying to her would make it worse when she found out the truth.

"Nowhere, sweetie, go to bed."

"Olivia."

Olivia sighed. "It was at your school. But listen; don't worry about it, all right? It'll be okay. Just go to bed, you can find out more about it in the morning."

Erin stopped cold when she heard where the crime had taken place. She froze in the middle of the room. "But Liv-"

"Erin, honey, go get some sleep, okay? That's all you can do."

"But I need to-"

"You need to rest. That's your job right now, to take care of yourself, all right? Come on," she said softly, leading her into her bedroom. "It'll be okay," she rubbed her back. "I know there's a lot going on right now, but you really need to lie down and try and go to bed, okay? Please, Erin?" She whispered, begging.

Erin bit her lip and reluctantly put her head on the pillow.

"Thank you," Olivia said, relieved. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

Erin nodded and flipped over. She blinked and she winked, but she couldn't sleep. The dark suffocated her and polluted her mind as she lay there, staring at the wall.

SVU SVU SVU

She did it once she heard the surefire snore. Casey was a loud, deep, sleeper, and luckily it only took her a few minutes to conk out. She was on the couch, her head back, mouth slightly ajar, snores escaping periodically.

She slipped into sweatpants and a hoodie, opening the door just to make sure everything was as planned. Sure enough, Casey was in a deep sleep, and she could probably sleep through a rock concert. As soon as she was about to slip out the door, she decided to be at least a little sensible. Quickly detouring to grab a pen and some paper, she jotted a quick note about what she was doing. She stuffed some of her own money and cell phone in her pocket and unlatched the apartment door, creeping out. She walked down the hallway, and tiptoed down the few floors unnoticed. No one would be out this time a night. She shouldn't be out at this time, definitely not with where she was going, but really she couldn't help it.

She wasn't even trying to be mischievous. She just needed some fresh air and to see. Plus she had that annoying gut feeling Olivia was talking about. The feeling was intense and prevailing, and the only way to quench it would be to go herself.

She walked to the nearest bus stop in the musky, musty, end-of-summer air. She was well-experienced in this area. She'd been a regular bus-goer back in the days of living with her father and siblings. The public transportation was cheap, easy, and for the most part convenient. You got used to the people on it, sometimes even made some acquaintances. She stood by the bench and looked at the schedule and the route on a washed-out sign. There was one stopping a few blocks away from her destination arriving in a few minutes, so she concluded it would be her best bet.

Stepping on the correct clunky, rusty, once-silver bus, she paid the fare, and took a seat in the front, staring out the window, but not noticing her near or distant surroundings. She was focused on one thing, and she refused to become distracted.

She heard the wheels squeak, and assumed she should get off now. She stepped down the stairs and stated braving the couple of blocks. Thoughts penetrated her bubble of concentration. Late night, teenage girl alone in New York city. That was a formula for disaster. The wrath of Olivia when she found out. The disappointment. And yet, she couldn't make herself care enough about any of these things to turn back. She was stubborn and driven and had that damn gut feeling.

She could turn around right now. She should turn around right now. She should high-tail it out of this area, find a cab or a bus, and get away as fast as she could and pray no one noticed she was ever out from under the sheets.

And yet she didn't.

She walked and walked and walked until her senses and instincts told her where she needed to go.

She saw multiple things at once. The whole scene blended and separated and swished together. All of her senses morphed into a big, white noise.

There were odd looks from various police, their voices on the walkie-talkies, like this was just an ordinary case.

There was the crime scene tape and latex gloves.

Plastic bags, things knocked over.

Pictures being taken, people sipping coffee.

She even recognized Elliot and Olivia, and as if on some weird, maternal, bonded psychic ability, the brunette looked over her shoulder. Her face was a collage of shock, fear, surprise, and horror at the sight of Erin's presence. They locked eyes for a split second, and Erin stole a glance behind her.

Olivia was in front of the crime scene.

Olivia was in front of the homicide.

Olivia was in front of a pool of blood and a body.

And Erin couldn't take her eyes off of the lifeless corpse on the floor.

She had formerly known those remains when they still had life. And now it was gone forever, never to speak, see, hear, laugh, or breathe again.

She felt bile rising in her throat.

She felt her heard pump faster.

Her blood chilled and then grew hot with a scared, confused fire.

Her eyes stung and grew watery, her throat tightened and ached.

Her breath panicked and caught in her throat, but she could barely notice the lack of oxygen.

All she noticed was the lack of life, the deceased figure, her eyes bolted on the tragedy in dismay.

"Fernando," she whispered, the scene crashing down around her, everything blending and screaming at her.

And then the world suddenly went silent.

Silent and pitch black as she fell down, down, down.

**My updating abilities suck worse than season finale cliffhangers (yes, Dick Wolf, that means you!), but, please, give me a little bit of a break. I've got finals and softball constantly and this chapter is a little longer than usual. Does that make up? Even a little? If not, feel free to virtually slap me. Go on, in fact I encourage it. Actually, I DEMAND it! But seriously I am very sorry. But summer's almost here! And then I get my life back! Yay! So…review? Maybe? It'd make me the happiest person ever to walk this earth! Thanks so much for them so far! I really do take them to heart. Love y'all! Peace and happy summer! =)**

** Grammar errors are one thing I do own…I proofread, but I'm not perfect (shocking, I know), so please point them out so I can fix them. Thanks!**


	7. Grateful

**I don't SVU. I do own Erin, Delilah, Chris, and any other characters you don't recognize from the show. Unless, I mean, you don't recognize Olivia and stuff…then my advice to you would be to watch the show a little more often.**

Erin awoke in a familiar habitat. Her head was on her pillow. Her body was under her covers. She was lying in her room. It was as if everything was normal. Any second now her alarm clock would go off, and she'd go to school. She'd go about her day, attend to all the business that needed attending to, come home, do homework, eat dinner, sleep, and repeat. It was a normal pattern, a simple routine. Today could very well be one of those mundane days in the pattern of simplistic teenage life. She glanced over to her right to see Olivia sitting on the rolling chair she used for her computer desk. Her hand was on her chin, her nails digging into her palm, and her eyes were fixed in a gaze on a picture on the opposite side of the room.

"You know, the fact that you're basically watching me sleep is a little bit creepy," Erin spoke. She noticed her voice sounded hoarse, like she had a cold. Her throat didn't hurt in the slightest. Her head was a little sore, though, come to think of it.

The sudden sound snapped Olivia out of her gaze, and her attention transferred from the black-and-white shot of the Eiffel tower to the figure on the bed.

"Hey," she said softly, getting up to wheel the chair closer to the side of the bed.

"Hey," Erin said back. "But seriously, what was with the 'Twilight' rendition? You weren't Edward Cullen last time I checked."

"What?" Olivia asked with confusion.

"Why are you in here?" Erin asked innocently, not bothering to clarify the pop-culture reference for the sake of moving conversation along. "Shouldn't you be at work? It's already," she looked at the clock, "nine-thirty. And why am I not at school? Just decided to let me sleep in? Well thank you very much for that, but I should probably go before I miss Spanish," she said, making a move to get up.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Olivia put her hands out.

"Why?" Erin said innocently, flopping back down on the bed.

Olivia narrowed her eyes, her mouth slightly ajar. "Erin, honey, do you remember what happened last night?" she asked slowly, speaking as gently as possible. On the inside, however, she was freaking out, a self-chastising monologue racing through her head. _Shit,_ she thought, _does she have a concussion after all? I should've just taken her to the damn hospital. But she didn't hit her head hard. One of the police from the other units caught her before she hit the floor. She was breathing fine all night. Dammit, Olivia, it's _always _better to be safe than sorry. _

"Of course. Oh, God, this is about the sneaking out isn't it? Look, I'm really sorry about that. I swear to you that it will never happen again. I just-I needed to know, you know? I just had to-"

"Erin," Olivia stopped her. "That's not important right now; you and I both know that."

"Well then what is this about?"

Olivia opened her mouth to say something, to state to obvious, quickly realizing that that wasn't the right approach. She thought back to some of her training, some of her experiences even, with others and herself. Erin was still at that first stage. Denial. She was still early enough in the grieving process to have the irrational notion that ignoring the problem would make it go away.

Acknowledgement. That was the first true step to healing. The first step in the very long road to the ultimate goal: acceptance. She wasn't sure how long that would take. She wasn't even sure how the journey would be. But she was determined. She vowed that she'd help the process along. She wouldn't rush it, but wouldn't let it become stuck. Wouldn't let one phase take over and devour, latch on and send the victim, her victim, into a downward spiral of constant depression and fear. Olivia would not let it consume her; she promised herself and Erin, she would not allow that to happen.

She put her elbows on her knees, leaned forward, and took a deep breath. She gave a small smile that she didn't mean and took one of Erin's hands in her own. She spent a couple of seconds trying to figure out exactly how to go about this, in the meantime making small circles with her thumb over the back of Erin's hand. If only it was that easy. Just to hold the power to rub out all the pain, the suffering, the sadness. In a perfect world, she thought.

"I know that this is hard," she said with soothing sympathy, still staring at their interlocked hands. "And I know that dealing with this, admitting what happened, seems overbearing. You think that if you confess what happened that the weight of the world is going to come crashing down on you, and I'm not going to lie to you, that just may be what it feels like. Like the world is crashing and crumbling and crushing you," she looked up to stare into the younger woman's eyes. "But I promise you, that acknowledging this now, is going to make it a hell of a lot easier in the long run," she nodded with reassurance.

Erin took a deep breath. "You promise?" she asked shakily.

"I promise."

Erin bit her lip and looked away. "But what if-" she stopped herself short in order to catch the breath that got caught in her throat from unreleased sobs. "What if I'm scared?" she asked in a whisper, making eye contact again.

"Scared of what?" She questioned. First step.

"I…I don't know," she said, shifting her glance to the wall.

"Yes you do, Erin, yes you do." Silence. "Erin, what you scared of?" she pushed with a whisper.

"I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to handle it," she admitted, her voice fluctuating, her throat tightening to the point where suppressing the tears became almost unbearable.

"You will."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, not with skepticism or challenge, but with helplessness, uncertainty, distrust in herself.

"Because you won't have to do it alone. That much I can guarantee you. You're not going into this battle single-handedly," she reassured.

"Swear?"

"Absolutely," she said with conviction. "And I know that Elliot, and Delilah, Chris, Casey, Alex, everyone that matters, will back me up on that."

Erin nodded her head and bit down on her trembling lip. A whimper escaped before she sucked it back in, trying so desperately to maintain composure. "I don't think he'd want me to cry," she said as it was some kind of excuse.

"But I know he'd understand if you did," Olivia told her.

Erin shrugged and looked down at her lap, her teeth chomping forcefully on the inside of her mouth, acting as a barrier to showing the throbbing hurt of loss, the anguishing ache of confusion, and the numbing emptiness.

"Hey," Olivia said with the upmost delicacy, "look at me," she instructed, assisting the request with the light placing of her fingers under her chin, tilting it slightly to insist the soft demand. "You're going to be okay," she finished.

Erin nodded. "I know," she said, a few tears managing to slip out.

Olivia shifted her arms, beginning the attempt at comforting her.

"Don't," Erin said, holding her hand out. Olivia looked at her, wide-eyed with surprise at the sudden outburst. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean it like that," she quickly apologized. "I just-"

"You need some time," Olivia finished.

"I just have to process it all," Erin explained, rubbing her temples.

Olivia nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Um," Erin sniffled, raking a hand through her hair, her arm shaking in the process of the reaching, "not right now," she concluded. "I'm sorry, I'm just figuring out how to handle all of this, and-"

"I get it," Olivia said, hesitating to get up, still looking at the girl in front of her. She took in the tear-stained face, her currently wiping at her eyes and nose with her sleeve, her hair in a tangled mess, her eyes shocked, glazed, and worn down. She finally stood up, deciding she needed her own pace and space to deal. This wasn't going to be suddenly fixed two seconds. It would take time, and now she needed it. Needed time to be able to think and breathe and process before anything else could happen. "Okay then, I'm going to go," she said, one hand on the door. "Can you at least promise me you'll try and rest?"

Erin gave a slight nod, and, as if to make her point, pulled the covers up to her shoulders.

"And you yell if you need anything. Anything at all," she demanded, pointing a sincere finger at the teen.

"Aye aye, captain," Erin said, giving a tiny lip quiver resembling a smile.

Olivia returned the gesture, and closed the door, saying a silent prayer in her head that this was foreshadowing of things to come. Hoping that there would be light at the end of this tunnel.

SVU SVU SVU

"How is she? Is she all right?" Casey asked, busting in the door of the apartment.

"Thanks for the knock, councilor," Olivia said, glancing towards her as she folded a blanket and draped it across the back of the recliner.

"Sorry, I just need to know if she's okay. And my time's limited, I'm using my lunch break here and Donnelly will have my ass if I'm late going back. She is okay, right?" the redhead asked in a somewhat panicked tone, stepping unconsciously to the hallway which held Erin's bedroom.

"Well, gee Case, I don't know. Her best friend just died and she saw his lifeless body on the floor and covered with blood. She was so freaked that she blacked out, so, yeah Casey, I imagine she's feeling great," Olivia said sarcastically, tidying up the living room for the sheer fact of giving her something to do. She was going to go crazy here. Locked up in this house filling with bottled emotion felt suffocating, and that fact Casey was here now didn't make her feel any better.

"Yeah, right, stupid question. But physically, she's not injured, I mean she's not in the hospital so it can't be that serious right?" she briefed quickly.

"Yeah, physically she's fine, thank God. Walking around in the streets in the middle of the night, I've had my fair share of cases like that and you know how that usually turns out," she lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips, trying as hard as she could not to let the bubbling energy under the surface explode onto her friend. It was like she was a shaken up soda can, a ticking time bomb.

"She's lucky."

"In the sense that she wasn't raped, kidnapped, or worse, then yeah. It's like she won the freaking lottery," she practically spat, her voice saturated with sarcasm.

"Good, good," Casey said, considerably more settled at the news. "Can I talk to her? See her, whatever?" she asked, sensitivity in her tone that rarely ever made its appearance in the lawyer's usually frosty demeanor.

"She's sleeping, or trying to sleep," Olivia said simply, rearranging magazines on the coffee table.

"Oh," Casey said, struggling to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Well, if you need someone to come over and help, bring food, watch the kids, whatever, I'm available. Or I can make myself available, tell Liz to suck it. Or, you know, maybe not say it exactly like that. But the point is I can do whatever you need me to." she offered.

"Thanks, but I don't think we need the help. I took today off, and the Captain said to take as much as I need. I'm going to get some paperwork to work on tonight, but Elliot will be here, so I think we're covered."

"Right, well, that's understandable. But I'm saying just in case-"

"And I'm telling you that it's not going to be necessary," Olivia said shortly.

Casey nodded, scrambling to find the mask of coldness that would hide her hurt. "What's your problem?" she asked straightforwardly.

"What's my problem?" Olivia chuckled as she dropped a magazine down with too much force for it to have been an accident. "What's my problem?" she repeated. "A kid, my kid, the kid that I'm responsible for right now, the kid that I think of like my own daughter, snuck out of the house last night. She saw her classmate, no, one of her best friends murdered body. She's now not only depressed, but scared to death because she saw a person she loved on the ground in a pool of blood. She's a sophomore for God's sake. And the thing is, this happened on your watch," she said, pointing an accusing finger.

"Oh, so this is my fault?" Casey asked, furious at the accusation. Infuriated at both Olivia and herself. How could she have fallen asleep so quickly? Why didn't she hear? Why didn't she wake up? How could she have let this happen?

Olivia shrugged.

"You actually think that I'm to blame in this situation?" She asked in a dangerously low tone.

"Blame you for what, you didn't do anything. And that's the point, you did _nothing_," Olivia emphasized.

"Look, I get that you're upset and I get that you need to point fingers at someone, but do you actually think that I'm that person?"

"I trusted you, Casey. I trusted you to look out for Erin and Delilah. I thought that you could handle it, but apparently I was wrong. Won't happen again," she threw her hands up.

"Damn right it won't, I'm gone. Find someone else to call at three in the goddamn morning. Anyone but me."

"Fine."

"Fine," Casey growled with finality, her hand reaching for the doorknob.

"Wait," the two women stopped to turn to the voice coming from the hallway. "Casey, please don't leave."

"Sorry Erin, but I'm obviously not welcome here by some," she said, glaring at Olivia.

"No, you can't just do that," Erin said harshly.

"Erin, I-"

"You promised me," Erin said forcefully. "Yesterday morning I freaking told you that I trusted you. I even gave you the whole spiel on my abandonment issues and all that hoopla, and you looked me in the eye and told me I could count on you. So, what, now you just bail because you and Olivia had a petty little fight? The going gets rough, so you pack your bags and say adios forever? That's selfish, and a little pathetic," Erin said, and noticing no beginning on caving in for resolution on either of the adults' parts, rolled her eyes. "Grow up, people. We've all just seen how short life can be. You don't always get second chances. Don't screw this up," she said sharply, making a move to go back to her room.

"Erin, wait. Please," Casey practically begged, sharing a look with Olivia. "I'm sorry I upset you, I didn't mean it."

"I got caught up in the heat of the moment. I said some things I shouldn't have said," Olivia joining in the conversation.

"We both did," Casey defended Olivia's actions. "And we didn't mean it. It's just, this is hard on all of us, certainly you can understand that."

"We made mistakes. Neither of us actually meant any of the things that we said," she glanced at Casey to verify this. "It was just a stupid fight, really."

Erin looked and listened to both the excuses and nodded, contemplating whether to be satisfied at how it turned out, judging the genuineness of the apologies. She finally decided to just be content at how quick the resolution was, and accepted their explanations. "Okay, so are you guys good now?" she asked, kicking the floor, her stare on her feet.

The two women looked at each other and shared small, apologetic smiles. "Yeah."

"Good. Because," Erin took a breath, "because you know…I just-I can't afford to lose another person that matters," she said, looking up and nodding at Casey. "I'm going to go back to my room now, okay?" she addressed the two.

"Okay," Olivia nodded, her hand subconsciously traveling in front of Casey, telepathically sending her a message not to follow or question this. Casey saw this and clenched her teeth together, getting the message, but definitely not happy about it.

Erin nodded and walked back to her room.

"What the hell was that?" Casey asked after the door closed.

"What?"

"That. That thing in Erin's body. Who was that that just walked in here?"

"Casey, she's suffering from a traumatic event. It's going to take time for her to regain some of, well, herself."

"Well why aren't we following her, pushing her harder, questioning her to make sure she's going down the right path? She's alone right now. Do you honestly think that's the best thing for her?"

"She asked to be alone."

"So? It doesn't mean she should be."

"Casey, I realize you're concerned, and I understand you want to help, and I thank you that you're sticking around for her, even after I just bitched you out for absolutely no good reason other than the fact that you were conveniently in close proximity and most likely wouldn't slug me."

"Don't worry about that, it was nothing," she shrugged off the fight, it already long out of her mind by now.

Olivia bobbed her head in appreciation of the acceptance of her indirect apology. "But it's going to take time, maybe even some counseling for her to get through it. I get that you want to be in there with her, trust me, I literally have to mentally talk myself out going in there in periodic intervals, but you have got to understand that this is her way of dealing."

"But it's not normal. She needs to talk about it."

"The breakdown will come, but in due time. We have to be patient if this is going to work."

"But what can we do now?"

"Wait. Wait and prepare for the breakdown, because when it comes, she's going to need a hell of a lot of support."

Casey nodded, clearly not wanting to accept this, but knowing she'd have to. She couldn't take being in this house anymore. It was like watching a train speeding full-force towards the girl and no one had the power to stop it or help her dodge it. She couldn't take the anticipation of the crash. She'd help clean up the wreckage; sure, she was good at that. Good at fixing things when they were broken, but she couldn't bear to watch it shatter into pieces right before her eyes. "Call me if you need me, okay?" she asked, the line a segue to her ducking out before the storm hit.

"I will. You'll be one of the first ones I do," Olivia said.

Casey concurred and walked out the door feeling beaten down. Serves her right for having a heart, she thought. Being the cold-hearted bitch in the courtroom was much easier. The icy persona was so much easier to embrace. True compassion, she thought, frankly, sometimes it sucked.

SVU SVU SVU

Chris' eyes got involuntarily and substantially wider when he opened the door to Elliot, complete with his trademark blue shirt, black pants, and the gun in plain, mocking view strapped to his belt.

"Hey Mr. Stabler," he said, politely sticking out his hand for a handshake.

"Hey Chris, how you doing? And Elliot's fine. You can come on in," he said, smiling welcomingly and returning the handshake, much to Chris' relief. It's not that he was _scared _of Elliot per say…more like…intimidated. All right, so he was basically terrified of the man. He dared anybody to be in his same situation and say they didn't feel petrified.

"Okay, thanks. Why are you here? Wait, no! I didn't mean it like that," he defended when he realized how that sounded. "What I meant to ask is where's Olivia? She's usually here in the evenings. Well, I mean she would be considering she lives here in all, but um, what uh, what are you doing here this…late?" he asked, stumbling and rambling along, anxiousness showing.

"She's getting some paperwork from the precinct. And my apartment's still getting cleaned. Termites," he explained, taking some satisfaction in the fact the boy was still a little uneasy around them. Good, he thought, a little healthy fear would keep him from doing something he'd regret. If only all of them were this easy. God knows Kathleen's various lovers weren't nearly as threatened this easily. He almost shuddered at the memory.

"Oh, that's right, Erin told me about the bugs. That's inconvenient."

"Well it's definitely not fun by any means."

"Of course not. Sorry about the hassle."

"Eh, I'll get over it. So I'm assuming you're not here to talk to me. Probably want to see Erin, huh?"

"Yeah, those were my original intentions."

"Right, well, I don't know if you heard, but one of her classmates just passed away. She's having kind of a rough time with it."

"I heard about it. It's horrible. I can only imagine what she must be feeling. That's why I came here; to make sure she's okay."

"And I'm sure that she appreciates that, but if you don't mind I'm just going to check on her first and see if she's up for visitors. That all right with you?"

"Yeah, definitely. Sorry about just showing up. I should've called of something, but it kind of just slipped my mind."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I'll be back in a minute," he said, ducking into Erin's room.

"You may be seated, kind sir," Delilah said in her best British accent, sitting on the couch, pawing through a large stack of papers.

"Why thank you, my lady," Chris said, playing along and sitting on the edge of the sofa. "But I pardon to ask you, why are we old-time English royalty all of the sudden?"

"Since you asked, our school is doing a play, _A Tale of Two Cities_, and I want to be Lucie, but in order to get the part I need to eat, sleep, breath, and speak the language of the literature!" she proclaimed, still maintaining her accent.

"Oh, I see," Chris said, amused.

"Yes, indeed you do. Now, if I may ask you a question in return."

"Why of course."

"Then why, whenever you are aroundeth the kind Sir Stabler, doth thee become quite close to moistening the interior of your trousers?"

"Okay, I'm lost, modern English really quick?"

"Why ,whenever you're around Elliot, do you almost pee yourself? Why does he scare you so much?" She translated quickly.

"Oh," he said, a blush creeping into his cheeks, "well, he's kind of daunting!" he defended.

"You really think so?" Delilah asked, disbelieving.

"Well, yeah. He's strong and looks like he could kill you with one look," he rationalized.

"Hm…I don't see it. I think he's kind of a big teddy bear to be honest," she said, going back to studying what Chris could only assume was the _A Tale of Two Cities_ script.

Elliot came out of the room, "She said you're fine to come in," he told Chris.

"Okay, sweet. See you Delilah, good luck on that part," Chris said, getting up from his seat.

"I graciously thank you!" she replied, waving a hand, not taking her eyes off the paper.

"Listen," Elliot motioned Chris to come near. "Don't stay too long, okay? Despite what she may say, Erin isn't doing too well, so don't push her too hard."

"Yes sir," Chris nodded and made a move further towards the door.

"Oh, and Chris," Elliot said, stopping him with his arm. "Keep the door open," he demanded in a tone that didn't leave an atom-sized space open for discussion.

"Yes sir," he promised again, walking into Erin's bedroom. It hurt him to see her laying there, her eyes red and her mouth in a frown. "Hey babe," he greeted. He was relieved she didn't forget how to smile, happy when her mouth curved upward at his arrival.

"Oh, Chris, it's so good to see you," she said, holding her arms out for a hug.

"It's good to see you too," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a warm, tight embrace. If only they could stay like this forever.

"I missed you. I'll scoot over so you can sit," she said, still embracing him, his chin resting on her head, his eyes facing the doorway. As if on cue, Elliot 'happened' to be walking by the door, and giving Chris a look that said that he'd better deny that offer.

"Actually, I'll just sit on the chair, you don't have to move," he said, pulling up the chair instead, scooting it back a few inches for good measure.

"Okay, whatever," Erin said, clueless to the silent conversation that had just taken place.

"So, how you holding up? I'm so sorry about what happened." He said sympathetically.

Erin shrugged. "I don't know. I…listen…I'm sorry, but can we just not talk about that right now?"

"Okay, sure. Yeah no problem. I'm sorry," Chris apologized.

"No, no, it's fine. Thank you for the condolences. I just…I want a break from all that. Just for a second, you know?"

"Totally, I got it. So…what do you want to talk about?" Chris asked awkwardly, figuring this visit would go quite differently.

"Oh, I don't know. Anything. How about you. How's school going?"

"Boring, as usual. Homework, nasty school lunches, Tony and Bob still getting into fights over P.E."

"Then literally nothing's changed. Even since the fourth grade Tony and Bob have been making that class into Olympic-like ordeals."

"Exactly. Remember when they got into a fist-fight in sixth grade?" Chris asked, smirking.

"Over volleyball? How could I forget?"

"And that weird lunch lady had to break it up."

"Mrs. Morrison!" Erin giggled, picturing the old woman. "Who was obsessed with rabbits and would talk to you about her fifty bunnies while you waited in line for your tater tots!"

"And what she said when she finally pulled them both off of each other?" Chris asked.

"Hop your bushy tails to the principal's office, younglings!" they completed the punch line of the memory together, each laughing at the recollection.

"Oh man, that chick was odd, no doubt," Erin said, after she stopped chuckling.

"Odd? How about completely psychotic?"

"Well yeah, that too," she agreed, smiling. "But you have to admit; she's good for laughs and makes for some good stories."

"No denying that," he smiled, moving to place a soft kiss on her lips.

"Thank you Chris," she said after returning the gesture.

"For what?"

"For making me laugh. For not throwing me an endless pity party. I mean, you made me feel like things might actually eventually be normal again."

"I'm glad. And I don't mean to ruin the mood here or piss you off, but you are going to have to deal with this eventually, to move on I mean."

Erin sighed. "I know, that's what everybody keeps saying. I know it'll happen soon, as much as I want to fight it. I'm trying to run like hell from it, but I know it's going to creep up and hit full-speed and force me to deal with it eventually."

"Unfortunately I think you're right. But I'll be here you when you need me," he said, kissing her again.

"I know I said this already," she said, pulling away from the kiss, "but really, thank you."

"All I did was help you remember some stuff."

"No," she protested, "you helped me forget."

SVU SVU SVU

_She walked down the hallway, clutching her books tight in her hands. She noticed the penetrating stares; the eyes were burning into her as she made her way, self-consciously, to her locker. It felt like a death march._

_ "Nice going. How does it feel to be a murderer?" Nick, the jock who had pushed her the first day, said sarcastically, shoving her into the metal door, sending her slamming into her locker. _

_ "You going to jail, you disgusting piece of trash!" Chris yelled._

_ "But Chris, I-"_

_ "Why didn't you just kill him yourself?" Delilah spat hatefully, before she could finish replying to her boyfriend._

_ "What are you talking about?" Erin asked Delilah helplessly, close to tears. _

_ "Fernando's dead! And you killed him!" Nick screamed. _

_ "What? I didn't kill him! Of course I didn't! This is all a misunderstanding!"_

_ "You took our best friend's life," Nick said._

_ "You never cared about him like I did!" Erin defended. _

_ "No Erin, _you're_ the one who didn't care about him. Why wouldn't you have stayed with him that night?"_

_ "I don't know, I'm sorry!" she yelled. But no one was listening. " I should have done something, but I didn't! I'm sorry everyone, I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!" _

_ "Sorry?" Elliot laughed, suddenly appearing in the hallway. "Well that's not going to cut it now," he said. "You're under arrest for the murder of Fernando Gomez," she said, violently grabbing her wrists and cuffing her. _

_ "No! No, I didn't mean to! I didn't do anything!" she yelled, thrashing around, trying to squirm away from Elliot. _

_ "Oh, Quit playing martyr, Erin. You're to blame. You did nothing and now he's dead. You're a murder by default. You had a responsibility to watch out for him and you blew it."_

_ "I know, but it was an accident!" she said, now suddenly out of the hallway and into a witness box._

_ "An accident?" Casey asked. "An accident. Killing Fernando Gomez was an accident?"_

_ "Of course! I never meant to hurt him," she said, tears stung her eyes in front of the courtroom. _

_ Casey laughed, "Right. Even though your hands are covered in his blood. Nothing further, your honor," she shot daggers at Erin and went to sit back down. Sure enough, she looked down, and her hands were dripping in blood. She shrieked with horror. _

_ "Ms. Rowe, you are found guilty of murder in the first degree! Officers, take her to the tombs!" the judge yelled. _

_ The cell door slammed shut, and she banged on the metal bars, noticing there was someone new slowing advancing towards her cell. Her last hope. _

_ "Olivia! Olivia, thank God you're here. Everyone thinks that I killed Fernando but I didn't I swear! This is all a mistake. I didn't mean to. This is all just such a disaster. Olivia. Olivia? Olivia, why won't you talk to me?"_

_ Olivia slowly turned to face Erin through the metal bars. "What do you want me to say? I can hardly look at you," she said coldly. _

_ "What?" her heart dropped. "But I swear I didn't do it."_

_ "I am just so…disgusted. Appalled, really. But I can't say I'm surprised. You always were a disappointment. I never want you to contact Delilah or me again, understand? Stay out of our lives," she warned, turning to walk away. _

_ "Wait! Please," she begged, causing Olivia to turn back briefly, giving Erin a flicker of hope. "You have to believe me." _

_ "You took a life Erin. And that's unforgivable," she turned sharply and walked away, leaving Erin to herself. Alone, in a dirty, dingy jail cell. _

_ She closed her eyes and sunk down to the cold, hard, cement floor, putting her hands over her ears and closing her eyes tightly, but she couldn't get the tears or voices to stop. _

_ Disappointment. Guilt. Disgust. Appalling. Murder. Killer. _

_ She screamed, and screamed, and told them to stop, but they would not go away. She felt herself start to shake violently, and now the world was spinning too, and she could not get it to stop. The darkness was consuming and it continued spinning madly on. _

"Erin?" Olivia formed the girl's name like a question, even though there was no denying who the screams belonged to. She took a deep breath, turned the lamp by her bed on, and grabbed her robe before speed-walking out of her room. She would be lying if she said that this surprised her. She anticipated it, really. It was an inevitability that the stresses and horrors she had been dodging all day would somehow catch up to her. She couldn't control her subconscious, and now her slumber was forsaking her.

She walked with a purpose, barely noticing Elliot stretching and yawning on the couch as she tied her robe, only detecting Delilah when she physically ran into her.

"Olivia, what's wrong with Erin?" the prepubescent girl asked in a whimper-like tone, rubbing at her terror-filled eyes.

Though she felt horrible to say it, she didn't even think of how this might affect the youngest in the house.

"Nothing, Del, Erin's just having a bad dream," she explained.

"Is she okay?" the smaller girl asked, concerned.

"She'll be fine, honey," Olivia reassuring, quickly kneeling to the shorter girl's level, taking her hand.

"Can I go see her? I'll help her if I can," she said with a raw, child-like innocence. Even though she was almost fourteen, she was still very naïve when it came to relationships considering her prior situation. There wasn't a lot of nurturing going on with the Jones family.

"I know you will, sweetie, but right now I don't think seeing her is such a good idea," Olivia said, smiling in attempt to silence the girl's fears. Though she felt bad for leaving Delilah here, obviously panicked by the teenager's ongoing shrieks, she knew she needed to get going to Erin's room. She looked to Elliot, who was already walking over to the pair.

"It'll be all right, Delilah. Come on, let's go back to your room and try to sleep," he tried to coax the girl to release her death-grip on Olivia's hand.

"Will you lay down with me? Until I fall asleep at least?"

"I'll stay as long as you want," he said, her hand shifting ownership, transacting from one adult to the other.

"Thank you, Elliot," Olivia whispered.

"No problem, I've dealt with nightmares many a time when the kids were little. Go take care of her, Liv."

Olivia nodded and continued to the room where Erin was tossing and turning up a fit. Her covers were now on the ground and she was thrashing up a fury on the mattress, her screeches and moans senseless, resounding, and incredibly audible.

"Erin. Erin, honey, you've got to wake up," Olivia commanded, firmly but tenderly taking her shoulders, shaking them softly enough as not to rattle or hurt the girl, but hard enough to assist in the waking-up process.

Erin instinctively tried to slap the new hands away, mumbling and crying out desperately.

"Hey, Erin, come on, you've got to get up. It's just a dream," she assured.

The yells and the whines continued, frustrating Olivia to no end that she couldn't get this nightmare to stop.

"Please wake up, baby girl," she pleaded, still continuing to try and shake the girl awake. She knew you weren't supposed to jerk someone awake out of a nightmare, instead having to slowly aid consciousness. What she didn't know is how she was supposed to be patient when the poor victim was screaming their lungs out.

"I promise you, everything will be okay if you just open your eyes," she promised, relieved when the girl drew in a sharp breath and opened her eyes, wide and glazed over.

"I didn't mean to kill him," she said, instantly recoiling when she realized Olivia's hands were on her, like she had just touched a hot stove. "I really didn't mean to do it," she said again, tears burning her face as she curled up into a ball-like stance, making herself as small as possible.

"It was just a nightmare, honey. You're okay now, you're safe. I'm right here," she said, sitting on the bed, placing a hand on the girl's knee, keeping it there even after she flinched away. This had to happen, and she vowed she'd be here for it.

"N-no. I-I was in jail. I'd killed him. Chris and Delilah and Nick all said that I did it, and Elliot arrested me, and there was blood on my hands in the courtroom and then Casey laughed, then the jail door slammed after-after you came in there and you couldn't even look and me, and everyone blamed me because I did it, I killed him and I had to pay," she rambled at a rapid-fire pace, shuddering uncontrollably.

"Listen to me, hon; it was all in your head. Just your imagination, that's all it was," she rationalized, taking Erin's hand in her own.

"No, it was real!" Erin insisted, pulling it back. "You couldn't-you couldn't even look me in the eye. You were so disappointed at what I'd done."

"Look at me," she instructed, and, unlike usual, Erin did so without question, desperately searching her face for answers. "Do I look upset?"

"No."

"Exactly. Everything's okay, see? You didn't do anything," she comforted.

"But it was so real," Erin said, finally accepting this explanation, her breath slowly regaining evenness.

"I know it was," she said empathetically, knowing how real night terrors could be, having more than her fair share of them after many occasions, many men in her repertoire. White, Gitano, Harris, even Zapata, all of them resonated and found home within the crevices of her slumber.

"I…I'm sorry," Erin whispered.

"No," Olivia shook her head.

"Yes," Erin practically yelped, sobs building up in her throat, only tears escaping for the time being. As much as she didn't want to surrender to the breakdown, she felt it would win out shortly. At least Olivia would be here when it happened. At least she'd have someone with her.

"Huh-uh. You have nothing to be sorry for," she said adamantly, taking Erin's face in her hands, taking strands of hair sticking to her face from sweat and tucking them behind her ears.

"But I-" she was prepared for one final protest.

"Shh," Olivia commanded, "don't fight it, sweetheart."

And with that, the floodgates were opened, the building pressure proving too much for the faulty barriers, the walls of denial she'd build ripped and torn by the seas and storms of tragedy. Of emotion. Of heartbreak.

Sobs fully wracked her body now, transforming the girl into a violently shivering mess of sweat and tears.

"Shh," Olivia said again, taking the weeping girl into her arms. "It's okay. You're okay, honey, you're okay," she muttered senseless, constant encouragement as she tightly held the girl, rocking her gently.

Erin sobbed into the warm fabric of her robe, her tears leaking into her shoulder. She gripped part of the fuzzy cloak, her hands clutching the material for dear life. Olivia was her present lifeline.

She continued hushing the troubled and traumatized teen, running her fingers through her hair, lightly scratching her back with her fingernails, her chin on the top of Erin's head protectively. "It'll be all right."

After a few more minutes of calming and crying, the pair had naturally shifted to Erin's head lying on the lap on the older woman. On a normal day she'd be embarrassed and possibly even uncomfortable with the prospect of her vulnerability reducing her to nothing more than a child, but she knew that this wasn't a normal day. And even though her head was telling her to be humiliated at this, her heart told her to let it go. However, her brain wasn't completely useless. It reminded her than some people might have better things to do than sit there and console her all night. Olivia might actually like to sleep.

"You can go to bed if you want," Erin said in a mousy voice.

Olivia looked down at her and couldn't help notice how she looked. She looked so young, her head resting on her leg, her doe-like eyes looking up at her almost apologetically. And yet she looked so old. Aged. There were dark circles under her eyes, a dull, beat-down look on her face.

"Is that what you want? Because if not I'll stay. And I promise that it makes no difference to me," she said, indirectly telling her not to make the decision on the account of her comfort. Right now it wasn't about her.

"Yeah, we all need rest."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she replied unconvincingly.

"All right then," she stood up, patting the girl's shoulder as she did. She went to grab some blankets from the ground, some that had been flung during the night terror, having second thoughts as she reached down to retrieve them. "You know you could come sleep in my bed if you want," she suggested. "Might make you feel better if there was someone around."

"No. That's okay. I mean, I couldn't ask you to-"

"Yes," Olivia stopped her, nodding profusely. "Yes you could."

Erin bit her lip. She trusted Olivia. She obviously did. But the instincts from her earlier life held her back. The whole premise of independence and maturity and growing up kept her from allowing herself to be taken care of. But it was late, and she'd been submitting to a lot of nurturing lately, and before she could change her mind, she blurted out an "okay," quickly tacking on an, "if you're sure."

"I'm sure," Olivia reassured. "Let's go, babe," she helped her up, leading her to her room. "Climb on in," she pulled the covers back, placing her hand on her back, giving the girl a little push. She was obviously questioning her snap decision, eying the bed with uncertainty. "Relax," she said, laughing a little at discomfort at the small gesture of comfort, moving to tucking the girl in.

"Are you sure you want me in here? What if I have another nightmare?" Erin asked apprehensively, worry etched into her forehead.

"Then you'll be right here and I won't have to walk as far. See, it's not a burden. This is saving me a lot of unnecessary movement in the grand scheme of things."

"I don't want you to keep waking up on account of me. You don't have to come to the rescue every time. I'll wake up eventually. And I can shut the door. If you're lucky you won't always get woken up."

"I know that I don't have to come every time. I want to. You know better than to think that I'd rather sleep than help you stop suffering from a bad dream. And if you don't, well then either I'm doing a really bad job showing you that I'm not ever going to give up on you, or you're a very slow learner," she explained, a sternness to her voice to let her know she meant what she said. "And I'm pretty sure it's not the latter unless you did a fantastic job of fudging your transcripts to get into your fancy private school," she added in a joke to lighten the mood.

"Look," she said after noticing the girl's still distressed expression. "I'm not going anywhere," she continued, her voice returning to a soothing whisper. "You're like a daughter to me. No, you _are_ a part of this family, in every way that counts. And families don't let each other suffer alone."

Erin nodded and allowing this to sink in. She wanted so badly to believe it. And while her head may still have trouble grasping at and griping the concept of sacrificing for family, hell, for being part of a true family, her heart told her to believe it. And in her heart she did.

"I love you, Olivia," she said, her voice grainy and tight, tears pricking at her eyes for a reason other than sadness.

Olivia's heart was in a state of shock and overwhelming joy at the momentous, milestone occasion. "I love you too, honey, I love you too," she smiled, tears bubbling under her eyes as well. She smoothed Erin's hair back and pulled the covers up around her before walking around to the other side of the bed and lifting herself in it, tugging the covers to her chin as well.

"Night," Olivia whispered, flicking her bedside lamp off and gently running her fingers through the girl's hair lying beside her. Finally, she closed her eyes, falling asleep to the peaceful sound of Erin's dozes.

**Author's note 1: I suck at updating. We all realize this. I really am working on it, cross my heart. But hey, this is a pretty lengthy update, if I do say so myself. (God knows how long it took to write this sucker!) So…maybe you can find it in your beautiful hearts to forgive me?**

** Author's note 2: I feel like death is a hard topic to write about because everybody deals with it differently. Erin's situation is very, very loosely 'based' (I don't even want to say based, I suppose it's just sort of similar) to something I've been through. I know everyone doesn't grieve the same way, and so I'm very sorry if you don't feel like this a realistic reaction to an event like this, but for the sake of the story, this is just how I'm having the character deal with it. So please don't be offended if you don't agree. Also, please don't throw tomatoes at me if you don't agree. I'm very sensitive to people flinging fruits. **

** Author's note 3: Sorry for grammar errors. It was very, very, late when I finished and proofread this. Please point them out so I can change them. But again, no chucking tomatoes, capiche?**

**Author's note 4: Reviews would make me feel happy, reassure me you're still interested and reading, and make me feel better, because I'm a little insecure about this chapter still. Okay? Okay. Thanks for all the feedback so far! Keep it up, please! Peace! Love you! =)**


	8. Homemade

**I'd tell you I own SVU, but then I'd be perjuring myself…**

"I'm scared," Delilah admitted, her face in a state of fear.

"Me too, Del, me too," Erin sympathized, wrapping an arm around her comfortingly.

"It's going to be okay guys," Elliot reassured. "I know you're scared right now, but you have to remember I won't let anything happen to you," he promised, putting a hand on both of their shoulders. "You can trust me; everything's going to be just fine. Just stay calm, we'll get through this together."

There was a moment of silence before Delilah spoke up again.

"Elliot," she whispered.

"Yes?" he questioned, his hand still on her shoulder.

"I don't want to die."

There was more silence as the three remained, giving each other support and reassurance.

"Unbelievable," Olivia said, a hand on her hip, her head tilted to the side in shock. "I try to do something nice for you all and how do you repay me? Like this," she put her hand out to the offenders in disgust.

"We're sorry Olivia, this is just very nerve-wracking for us all," Erin stated, looking up at the woman.

"And just what is so nerve-wracking about eating chicken?" she crossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders.

"Um, the fact that you cooked it," Erin said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Olivia gave a small huff. "What horrible thing do you think is going to happen to you if you eat it?" she rolled her eyes.

"Food poisoning."

"Severe abdominal pain."

"Death."

"Oh for God's sake, would you quit the dramatics? Guys, I really tried hard on this," she said honestly. "I don't even remember the last time I make a real, home-cooked, non-microwaved meal."

"Exactly," Delilah said, earning her a glare from Olivia.

"It's true. Never in my twelve years of knowing you have I ever seen you make food that didn't involve the words 'instant' or 'heat and eat' on its packaging," Elliot admitted.

"Elliot, not helping. Not helping at all," Olivia looked over at her partner.

"All right, all right, we've taunted long enough. I for one think that we should at least try it," Erin said.

"Thank you, favorite person. See, sometimes you can be a really sweet kid…"

"Of course, right now I'm so hungry I would probably eat my own shoe…"

"And it's gone…" Olivia sighed.

"Kidding, kidding," Erin defended. "But seriously, I'm really hungry, so if we're going to do this, let's go. Permission to dig in?"

"Permission granted," Olivia said, a smile on her face at the final acceptance of her cooking and the spark back in the girl's eye.

It had been a week since the death - six days since the breakdown with Erin. It was getting better with time. Each passing day brought less random zone-out sessions. Color and life was slowly returning to her face. Routine was suddenly making its appearance and order was starting to be restored. The nightmares were becoming less frequent, and when they did happen Erin wasn't nearly as traumatized. She usually woke up on her own accord now, being able to take a deep breath, dig up some self-reassurance, and then head right back off into dreamland. Sure, there had been a few more occasions where Olivia came running to the rescue, armed and ready with a glass of water, a listening ear, and some soothing mechanisms. But the important thing was that it was improving, and there were definite signs of a full and quick recovery for the girl.

"So, not that I'm not thrilled at the prospect of having something other than fast food or ramen noodles for dinner, what's with the traditional home-cooked meal all of the sudden?" Elliot inquired, talking a seat.

"Yeah, why the sudden homemaking, June Cleaver?" Erin asked.

"Or Donna Reed," Delilah chimed in. "My nanny used to make me watch that with her all the time. She had every season in box-sets. She even kind of dressed like Donna Reed now that I think about it…she was a freak."

"Oh, and there's always the Waltons. Come to think of it, her name was Olivia on that show too. We could change your last name and you'd be the spitting image," Elliot contributed.

"No, no, no, Olivia Walton is much too individualized and modern to be in the same categories as Donna and June," Erin corrected. "She's more Carol Brady-esque."

"I disagree, I think-"

"Okay, are you guys going to shut up about ideal house-moms long enough for me to talk, or are you all going to continue to discuss classic television?" Olivia interrupted.

"Sorry."

"Go ahead."

"Anyway, the point of this dinner is that we, us four," she circled her finger around in the air as an act of inclusion, "I consider us sort of a family now, you know? Growing up I didn't have this – I couldn't have this – and surrounded by all of you I feel more complete, and I wanted to do something special, something nice so that hopefully all of us could feel that way. Kind of like a fresh start."

"It's the beginning of a dynasty," Erin said smiling.

"I could get used to that," Delilah proclaimed.

"I'll drink to it," Elliot raised his glass. "Cheers," he invited the rest to a toast.

"To four dysfunctional people all living under the same roof and seeming to continuously enjoy themselves," she stated. "All right, not always enjoying themselves," she clarified when she saw a skeptical look on Olivia's face, "but hey, we haven't killed each other yet, right?"

"Success story of the century," Elliot said sarcastically.

"Far from perfect, but secretly we wouldn't rather be anywhere else. So cheers to that."

"Cheers," said the four voices around the table.

"Well, let's go, what are we waiting for?" Olivia asked after they had all sipped their beverage of choice.

"Right," Erin said, slowly picking up a fork and glancing around the table. She suppressed a sigh and an eye roll as she noticed she was the only one to grab an eating utensil. She delayed the inevitable by examining the other seated bodies. She saw Delilah mouth 'sucker,' Olivia's anxious, nervous smile of anticipation, and worst of all Elliot's trademarked shit-eating grin. This is what she got for being nice. Serves her right for not wanting to hurt poor Olivia's feelings. And after she had just confessed they were like family. Shame on them! Shame on them for having no manners, and most of all shame on them for throwing her under the bus!

She cleared her throat and scanned the plate for what looked the most edible; deciding the white lump to the far left looked like it could do the least amount of damage. She took a slightly less-than-normal-sized forkful and was halfway to her mouth before she froze and looked up to see the entire table still looking at her intently with the same prior expressions. Seriously? Absolutely no class.

_Man up, Erin, how bad could it be?_ She commanded herself.

Before she had time to chicken out, she opened her mouth and shoved the food past her lips.

_Oh. My. God. What the hell even _was_ this? _She screamed internally.

"Wow," she managed, trying as best as she could to force it down her throat.

"So, how is it?" Olivia bit her lip.

"Yeah, Erin, how is it?" Elliot cocked his head and put his chin on his fist, casually resting his arm on the table.

She shot him a quick death-glare before looking at Olivia.

"It's…interesting," she said, her mouth still filled with a piece of the white pile, struggling to swallow. "What, uh, what's in these mashed potatoes?" she put her hand over mouth in case she threw up.

Olivia sighed, defeated. "That's supposed to be rice."

"Right, right, that's what I meant," she quickly tried to cover.

"No it's not," Olivia shook her head. "Here," she handed her a napkin, "spit."

"No, no, it's okay," she held out her finger and mumbled through the mouth of goop. She would get this down. She was determined. She put a hand to her chest.

"Erin, please, just spit it out," Olivia waved the napkin at her.

"It's not even that bad, honestly. I just got a really big bite," Erin tried to persuade. However, this attempt at persuasion fell short when she started to cough.

"Honey, you're going to choke," she continued fanning the napkin out for the taking, met only by Erin's pointer finger. "Out, now!" she demanded when the coughing got worse, chucking the napkin at her and jumping up from her chair, prepared to give the Heimlich maneuver if need-be.

Erin grabbed the napkin and emitted the mush, happy for being able to breathe out her mouth again. She took a few deep breaths, regaining her regular pattern of inhaling. She snatched the glass of water Olivia held out to her and gulped it down. It was a start, but the water didn't do nearly enough to get the taste off of her tongue.

As if reading her mind, Elliot put a hand on his own glass, prepared to offer it to her.

"Elliot!" Olivia slapped his hand away.

"What?"

"That's beer. Erin's fifteen in case you forgot."

"Oh shit, you're right. Sorry," he said with realization.

"I have orange juice," Delilah stated from across the table, holding out her cup.

"Thanks hon," Olivia said and transferred the drink, holding it out to Erin.

"Thanks," Erin said, swishing the tangy liquid around in her mouth. She wasn't particularly fond of orange juice, but anything was better than the taste she had right now.

Once she downed the juice she looked up.

"You all right?" Olivia inquired.

"Yup. A-okay."

"Good. I swear, I followed all the directions, the entire recipe word-for-word from the book, I don't know how it possibly could have turned out wrong. Was it really that bad?" she looked over at Erin, putting her on the spot.

"Oh, uh…n-no," she said after a beat.

"Damn it, it was," she said with a face palm, seeing right through her tactful act. "I suck," she slumped down in her chair.

"You don't suck. You're just not a natural-born chef. It's okay, neither am I. I'm assuming Elliot isn't either," Erin said, sitting down next to her.

"Hey, that's not true."

"Oh shut up, Stabler. You know you can't cook," Erin said.

"I resent that. I pour a mean bowl of cereal. And I can make peanut butter and jelly too."

"Not a good one," Delilah stated.

"Excuse me?" Elliot asked, faux-offended, a shocked look plastered into his features.

"Your peanut butter to jelly ratio is all jacked up. Way to much jelly per square inch of peanut butter. Not even close to Olivia's."

"I'm hurt," Elliot said, pretending to wipe a tear.

"Sorry, but it's the truth," Delilah shrugged.

Olivia laughed. "And I can order a kick-ass take-out."

"Want me to get the phone book?" Erin offered.

"Psh, that's insulting. I'm no amateur; I've memorized all the important places. Elliot, be a doll and fetch me the phone, would you?"

"Of course, your highness," he said rolling his eyes and grabbing the phone.

"Pizza or Chinese?"

SVU SVU SVU

"How does that rice taste, Erin?" Elliot asked, scooping a heaping spoonful of orange chicken to dump on his plate.

"Edible," she replied, taking another bite of fried rice, courtesy of 'China Moon' instead of Olivia's kitchen, thank the Lord.

"All right, how long are these jokes going to go on for? It was an honest mistake, people. Though it may shock some of you, I'm not entirely perfect in every single freaking way," Olivia declared, bitterly ripping open a packet of soy sauce.

"Probably forever," Delilah said.

"Really you should be flattered. We don't have a lot we can rag on you for, so we settle for your kitchen expertise…or lack thereof…but, hey, if that's the worst you got, you're doing pretty well," Erin complimented.

"Thanks. How reassuring," Olivia replied sourly.

"Anyways, any news?" Elliot shifted the subject.

"Oh! I have some," Delilah exclaimed, swallowing the food already in her mouth and clearing her throat. "Well, okay, so you guys know that I tried out for the school play, right? Cheesy, I know. Like so cheesy some people might even consider it borderline lame, but I thought it might be something fun to do. You know, make friends, get to know some people, maybe even find someone who-"

"Delilah, the news before I'm eighty please," Olivia interrupted.

"Oh, right, sorry. Anyway, so I see the fliers to try out for this play and it's 'A Tale of Two Cities.' And at the time I wasn't even really sure what that was but the fliers had this quote at the top. It was something like 'it was an awesome time and a crappy time at the same time' or something like that. So then I remembered when Erin was telling me her summer reading book this year actually sounded pretty cool and it started out exactly like that. I don't even remember who you said it was by, like Charlotte Dickens or Emily Dickenson or Dick Wolf or something? Whatever. So anyway, I-"

"Sweetheart, as interesting as this is, could we please just have the spark notes?"

"God, you're right, I'm rambling! I'm just so excited. I got the lead role!" She finally exclaimed, beaming.

"Honey, that's great!" Olivia said enthusiastically. "I'm so proud of you."

"Nice, Del," Erin said, giving her an approving look.

"Good job, kiddo," Elliot smiled, thinking back to the last of his children's plays he'd attended. Lizzie was always the little actress of the family. She was the shyest amongst his kids, but she had a knack and a love for that stage. He remembered that particular smile he'd seen only once. The spark in her eye he'd only witnessed the time he'd went to her middle school's production of 'The Diary of Anne Frank.'

He told himself he would not regret anything. Kathy had filed for divorce, and he understood it. He'd gone through the period of blaming himself. Though he'd never admit it, in the privacy of his apartment he'd shed tears over her. What they could have been. No, he corrected, what they used to be.

He knew their relationship wasn't always steady. In fact, most of the time it was a tumultuous one. Almost constantly rocky.

Kathy wasn't evil. Kathy was a kind woman. A lovely woman. One whom he had spent many long, joyful years with. She tried so hard to understand. Bless her heart she had tried. She was the one who tried so hard to keep up, to put up, with Elliot Stabler.

She tolerated him in a way no one had ever done before. Besides Olivia, that is.

She had taught him so much about himself. She had been good for him. Had been. They were happy in high school, but he realizes now that's probably where it should have stayed. They dated all through their teens. They had been blissfully happy and unaware of life to come. They were happy-go-lucky, typical high school kids, convinced they were madly in love. They feel in love quickly and they feel in love hard. But it was so very difficult at that age to distinguish a subtle, yet all-important difference. Had he truly loved her? Or in love with the concept of love? Was he ever really and truly in love with her? Was she ever really and truly in love with him?

He'd like to think so on both accounts. All of those high school nights spent with each other, deliriously happy and ready for their lives together. Where had that gone? What happened to that connection? That level of mutual understanding?

Looking back, maybe they'd never had it to begin with. After awhile maybe it became forced, and all the trying from him and from her blurred the line between wanting to be together and feeling an obligation to.

But that was the past. As much as it hurt him, he knew he would never get her back. She had changed. He had changed. So much had changed now and there was no going back. It was sad and it was painful, but he knew that it was necessary to acknowledge it. He had to move on. Their being together was no longer healthy. No longer happy. No longer productive for either of them. They needed to part ways for each other's sake.

They had to let go and get on with their lives without each other.

He didn't regret it. Not a single second of it.

He had the memories, and most importantly five beautiful, perfect children he could never stop loving if his life depended on it.

That was the thing that hurt the most. Knowing that he had hurt them. Knowing that they were stuck in the middle of it all was the deepest cut.

He had unintentionally hurt his children and he had no clue how to fix it.

Sure, he had never been home much. Never been the perfect father. He should have been home more. He should have spent more time with them. Should have taken advantage of that childhood notion that adults knew everything and could fix anything.

But his children were all past that now. In fact, only a few of them were considered children at all anymore. Maureen had a life of her own. Kathleen was away at college. Lizzie in Dickie were well into their high school years. Eli, well, little Eli was still his little boy. His. He would raise him as his son. Did they share biological genes? Perhaps not. But he was his in his heart. They shared more than blood, something far greater than the things pumping through their veins.

Love.

He knew that, rationally, there was nothing he could have done differently. He had provided for his family, and now he moved out for them. But at what cost? Would they be better off with him still at home?

Sure, everything he'd do would be like a charade at this point, an act, a painted smile, but was he being selfish? Should he make that sacrifice for their sake? Should he have made the choice to go into SVU at all?

He could have gotten a different job, one that pays as well with fewer and more flexible hours, and one that didn't cause him to be gone. One that didn't cause his family struggle. Was the job worth this?

Why did he stay with a job that only hurt him? Only made him suffer, even bleed on numerous occasions? Stick with working for a place that broke up his marriage, his family, his home, everything he had?

Sure, he loved helping people. In fact he needed it. He needed the justice. His body needed him to make that happen. But why not be a lawyer? A therapist? Hell, even cop for a different unit? He could still get justice without all this heartbreak working homicides. Was it truly because of his daughters, like he had said all of those years? Yes, he thought, this part was true. Partially true. But was his argument valid?

Sure, he worked sex crimes because the misdeeds against women discomforted him in the very worst way, knowing that these things happened to someone's daughter.

But so did homocides. So did bombings. Drug dealers targeted daughters as well, sending them plummeting, turning innocent young girls into junkies. If he could work those units, then why the hell would he stay here, working the worst of the worst, the most heinous, damaging, disgusting and disturbing crimes? Interrogating the sickest, most perverted perps, not to mention putting a target on his back and his family while doing it? Why the hell had he stuck it out so long? Someone had to do the job, but why him? He, who had everything to lose. What could ever possibly make it anything even close to worth it?

Then he glanced up and saw her.

And he knew.

"El? Elliot. Earth to Elliot Stabler," Olivia snapped him out of his thinking trance, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Yeah, sorry," he shook his head, clearing his mind.

"You here, you joining us now?" she asked, looking at him with an odd expression.

"Yup. Just zoned out."

"I could see that. Do you want a bite of my wonton?" she held out the fried crisp out to him.

This question was met by a sudden light spewing mist of an orange liquid across her face and a round of choking laughter by Delilah. "What are you doing? What's so funny?" Olivia asked, looking over at the hysterical girl between wiping her face of the juice splash.

"Nothing," Delilah said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Seriously, what's so funny?" Erin asked, wrinkling her eyebrow and smiling at the random outburst.

"Just…that sounded…" she giggled "it sounded kind of dirty…" she hiccupped and blushed, still giggling a little.

Erin looked at her confused before a look of understanding lit up her face and she broke out into laughter as well.

"Am I missing something?" Olivia asked Elliot, the box still in her hand.

"If you are, I'm missing it as well," Elliot replied, "care to try to explain?"

"'Do you want a bite of my wonton?' Come on, it sounds sort of suggestive," Erin said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"That immature and perverted, not to mention inappropriate. Asking if he wants a bite of wonton is a totally innocent and sincere question," Olivia admonished, rolling her eyes at the raunchy implications. "Get your minds out of the gutter, would you?" she half-heartedly chastised. "Teenagers," she finished the miniature lecture before glancing back to see Elliot's support. "El," she said, wide-eyed when she saw a smirk on his face, gently punching him in the arm. "You're supposed to be a mature influence."

"I'm sorry, but they do kind of have a point," he said, laughing.

"Uh, I give up. I just give up," she threw her hands up in surrender. "You guys clean the table. I'm going to get a shower and ponder why I let you all stay here."

"I'll answer that. It's because you love us!" Erin said, stacking some empty containers, getting ready to dispose of them.

"Then I'll go and ponder why," she said rolling her eyes, her mouth curving into a grin.

But of course, she already knew.

SVU SVU SVU

"Where are the girls?" Elliot asked, walking out of the master bathroom and into the kitchen, running a hand through his wet hair, still damp from showering.

"Del's asleep and Erin's showering. Why?" She inquired, flipping through a pile of papers, a stack of crème files spread over the table's surface.

Elliot shrugged, "no reason. Just curious."

Olivia nodded, picking up a paperclip.

Elliot grabbed the top of a chair and pulled out the seat next to her.

She looked up from her file and wrinkled an eyebrow.

"What the hell is that?" she asked, sniffing the air.

"What's what?"

"What do you have on?"

"Um," he looked down at his attire. "Sweats and a t-shirt?" he answered questioningly. "I'm sorry, is sitting in this chair a black-tie occasion? Should I go change?"

"No, no, not what you're wearing. What did you use in the shower?"

"Soap..."

"Liar. You totally used my body wash."

"Look, I just used whatever you already had in there," he defended.

"Was it in a pink bottle?" she asked, a raising an eyebrow to let him know there was no way out of this one.

"…maybe," he replied reluctantly.

Olivia started laughing when something hit her. "And there was regular soap in there too," she said, pointing to Elliot. "It was way out in the open too, right on the counter. In fact, it was so much in the open it was impossible not to see. So you chose to use the stuff in the pink bottle, didn't you?"

"I hate that you're a detective right now."

"Answer the question, Stabler."

He started to stutter a few excuses, knowing this was over when he saw her crossed-arms pose. "I'm sorry, but is there any crime in wanting to smell nice?"

Olivia broke into hysterics. "Elliot Stabler using jasmine and vanilla, lavender body wash with rejuvenating beads. I can just picture that."

"So you picture me in the shower?" he asked with a suggestive grin.

"Don't flatter yourself," she retorted, getting up for a bottle of water, a matching smirk on her face. "Look, I'm glad you're making yourself at home, but that crap's expensive. It takes serious cash to look this good."

"You pay money to look like that? Yikes."

"Shut up," she said, playfully punching his shoulder and sitting back down. After a few minutes of silence and file flipping, she laid down the papers she was holding and turned to Elliot. There was a consuming thought running through her head, and until she went out with it, she realized, she wasn't going to be able to focus.

"Listen, El, I wanted to talk to you about something," she said, plunging in.

"Okay, shoot."

"Okay," she took a deep breath. "I just wanted to ask you something. Don't feel obligated or anything, but I figured I'd ask just because I feel like it makes sense."

"Noted. I repeat, shoot."

"All right. Well," she sighed. "I've been thinking. You living here, I feel, has been a really good thing. I know it's a little cramped, kind of small, but it's working. At least I think it is. It's nice having someone around to help me out, whether it be picking the kids up or just…really anything, you know? I mean, Erin and Delilah obviously love having you here. I do too. You've been a great influence. You've been…you've just been great. For all of us. And if it's not totally crazy I wanted to ask if maybe you'd want to move in on a more permanent basis. Like I said, don't feel obligated or pressured, just…if you wanted to, you're more than welcome."

Elliot blinked. This was sudden. He should be surprised. This should be a hard decision filled with complexities. But the thing was, he had sort of forgotten living on his own. He sort of forgot how. Living alone was liberating for some people. Having their own space, independence, freedom was the best feeling in the world. But that had never been for Elliot. In fact, thinking back, this was the first time he had ever lived alone for an advanced period of time. He went from his parent's house with his parents and siblings, to the military with other soldiers, to his home with Kathy and his kids. He had never really known what it felt like, and now that he had, it dawned on him that he never wanted it again.

"You know what? That sounds great."

"Awesome, I mean, cool. Yeah, that'll be good," Olivia said. Was she stumbling? Stuttering over her words in front of her partner of more than ten years? What had gotten into her? Was it the fact that she had a right to be freaking out considering she just proposed Elliot to live with her? In her house? 24/7? 365 days a year? And he had accepted. She had just blurted that out. Was it being caught up in the moment causing her to word vomit a life-decision? Or was it being caught up in those blue eyes?

Was she worried because of that irrational decision? Or did the fact that right now it seemed very rational scare her more?

It was for the kids, she told herself, for the kids. "Anyway," she cleared her throat, "good. I'd been…meaning to ask that for awhile now." She hoped he wouldn't be able to see through the lie.

If he could, he didn't show it. "Yeah, good. That should be good."

"And I'm sure we can move some things around and give you your own space. Like there's that mudroom that I have and have never ever once in my life found any purpose for. All I do is store crap I don't need there. Crap that I can get rid of and clear out in, like, four hours, tops. It's small, but it'll fit a bed and a dresser. That's all guys really need anyway, right?" Oh my god, and now she was rambling. What was getting into her?

"Yeah, that's the gist. And you just tell me how much rent you need and I'll-"

"Whoa, no, that's not happening."

"What's not happening?"

"Rent. You're not paying rent for an area barely bigger than a walk-in closet."

"And a kitchen, and a bathroom, a washer and dryer, a-"

"Yeah, all of which you have to share with three hormonal females."

"Trust me, I'm used to it."

"You're still not paying rent. I won't let you. You're doing this as a favor to me, to this household. Hell, I should be paying you."

"That's definitely not going to happen," Elliot replied quickly.

"I know that," she rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying."

"I feel bad not doing anything."

"Tell you what, you can make the coffee in the mornings and we'll call it even."

Elliot sighed. "Fine. But know I'm willing at any time. Just say the words, send me a bill, whatever. And for your information, I'm not happy with this."

"Um, hello, since when has that ever mattered to me?"

"Good point," Elliot cleared his throat, desperately wanting to change the subject from this personal one. He'd never been too good with personal. "So, what are you working on anyway?" Work. Now that was something he was good at.

"Stanton and Gomez cases," she said, chucking a file at him, it hitting the table with a thud.

He rubbed his temples. "You think they're related?"

"I think they've got to be. I mean, found in the same place, virtually same M.O, in a relationship with each other and each killed within days of one another? If not it's one hell of a coincidence."

"I think you're right. We ruling out hate crime?"

"We'd better not. I feel like it could certainly be possible."

"What have we got?"

"A common thread. Or, string, really. The violin teacher, Gordon Reich." She flashed a picture of the suspect to Elliot.

"Homophobe?"

"I don't know about that. But look at his past."

"Seven child abuse charges?"

"All dropped."

"That's awfully convenient."

"Mhm. And he's mysteriously not allowed to teach girls anymore."

"Huh, I wonder why," Elliot mused sarcastically.

"Yup. I'm thinking he's our best bet right now."

"All right, I could see him in for Benjamin's murder, but why target Fernando?"

"Maybe Fernando knew and threatened to go to the police. And he's known for getting very 'involved' with his students. Even Stanton's parents said he was a shining star with strict coaching. I can't imagine he'd like his rising little musician spending more time with a kid than with his instrument."

"Okay. Good. Tomorrow we'll run it by Cragen. See if we have enough to have a friendly chat with Mr. Reich."

"All right then," Olivia replied, organizing the papers and stacking them neatly onto the table. "Well, I think I'm going to head off to bed now."

"Yeah. I'm going to go head to…couch."

Olivia chuckled. "Only for a few days. Not too much longer, I promise."

"I know. Just giving you a hard time," they smiled at each other. "Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

They stayed frozen in that position. Each standing inches away from each other. Them both looking into each other's eyes. His light, cheerful, glossy blues met hers, dark brown, compassionate and mysterious. They were locked in a gaze, each mesmerized by each other's eyes, usually holding, shielding, concealing secrets now like an open book to the other. They were fixed on one another and nothing else.

"Well, see you in the morning," she quickly ripped her gaze away to hide the blush when she realized what they were doing. This could not happen. It was wrong. She knew that.

But then why did it have to feel so damn right?

"See you then," he replied, cracking his knuckles so he could have a distraction from what had just happened. That moment. That undeniable spark was burning him.

After that he was going to need another shower.

A cold one.

SVU SVU SVU

"So Gordon, tell us about yourself," Olivia said, leading him into the interrogation room. "Besides the fact that you're an abuser."

"Oh, pumpkin, you've got me all wrong."

"Do I, Gordon? I mean I already know your hobbies. Interests: teaching music, wine tasting, long walks on the beach, and, oh yeah, beating up little kids."

"In other words, you like slapping children around," Elliot spat, shoving his shoulder, forcing him down into a chair.

"Detectives, don't be ridiculous…I don't like wine tasting," he said with a laugh, arrogantly crossing his arms, leaning back in his chair, and plopping a foot up on the table.

"This isn't a time for jokes, Reich," Olivia replied, pushing his foot off the table. That was one of her biggest pet peeves in the interrogation room. "You're a suspect in a murder case."

"You're crazy. Who are you saying I killed?"

"Benjamin Stanton. Your star pupil. Remember him?" Olivia threw the file at him, taking a seat as well, clicking a button on the tape recorder, secured to the bottom of the table.

"Of course I do," he picked up the file. "Such a pity he passed so young. He was a very talented boy. Handsome too. Those big, calloused hands from years with his violin. Those innocent young eyes," he tenderly ran his hands over the photograph, stroking the printed page. "That young, pure smile."

Seeing his affection for the picture, Elliot instinctively ripped it from his grasp.

"Easy, detective. You could have easily given me a paper cut."

"You think this is a game?" He asked, bending down a level in order to meet Gordon's face.

"Although, with me having a paper cut, it would have made giving a blood sample easier," he chuckled, ignoring Elliot. "Maybe this is the NYPD's new standard procedure for getting DNA."

"You think that this is funny?" Elliot yelled. "A boy is dead, Gordon, and you're looking good for it!"

"How? Tell me, what do you have on me?"

"You saw him the night he died. In fact as far we know you were the last person to see him alive," Olivia joined in. "So I suggest you start talking."

"Fine. Ask me anything you want. But I didn't kill that boy. I never laid a hand on him and you have nothing disproving that."

"Then how about the seven charges of child abuse?"

"That's irrelevant, none of those ever stuck."

"Seven, Gordon? C'mon. That's no coincidence and you know it," Olivia accused.

"It must be. I do nothing to my students that music teachers don't do all over the world."

"And what would that be?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"You're right. So how about we talk about that fact that you're not allowed to teach girls anymore."

"It's that I don't want to. They're a waste of my time. Males are the dominant gender; they have more potential. I refuse to squander away my time with girls."

_Great, _Olivia thought, _another one of these. Hasn't she dealt enough sexist pigs in the last few days already? _

"Really? Because it says here in your file your lawyer convinced you that teaching girls would only further hurt your career. And coincidentally this was right after Ming Li and Rita Garcia mysteriously showed up in the hospital with evidence of assault only hours after a lesson with you. Did girls get boring, Gordon. Did you need to overpower the 'dominant gender' to satisfy your sick needs?"

"If I hurt those girls then why were charges never filed?" He asked, a smug beam present on his face. "I'm innocent, detectives. I'm just a music teacher trying to do my job teaching my students. And I do it to the very best of my ability."

"Except you focus on control and power rather than the music. Isn't that right, Gordon?"

"I teach my kids discipline. Musical discipline often transfers over to real life. In order to master an instrument you must first overcome pain and struggle to someday achieve great pleasure," he smiled.

"Elliot, don't," Olivia said, placing a hand on Elliot's chest. He had that look. That look that said he was ready to kill. The look akin to a panther ready to pounce.

"So, detectives, since I'm obviously not hiding anything and you're getting nowhere, am I free to go?"

"Oh no, we'll be back shortly. Just try to sit tight. Okay pumpkin?" Olivia said patronizingly, winking at him.

"So what now?" Elliot asked, rubbing his forehead as they shut the door to the room. "I mean he's got to be our guy."

"Not necessarily, El. I mean there's no doubt he's a sick bastard, but are you sure he's our sick bastard?" She asked, looking in through the two-way glass, her stomach churning looking at his inflated ego.

"How should we play it? We don't have a lot on him besides the fact he was with Benjamin before he was murdered."

"I don't know," Olivia ran a hand through her hair. "Want to run things by Cragen, see if he found any holes we can grill him on after him looking through the file?"

"Yeah, all right," Elliot agreed, throwing a copy of the files he had taken from the interrogation room onto Olivia's desk, walking with her to the Captain's office.

SVU SVU SVU

Erin walked into the squad room, her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Ugh," she grunted, relieved all of the weight from her books was off of her shoulder. She kicked the messenger bag under Olivia's desk, figuring she'd start on her homework soon. She just needed to rest her eyes for five minutes. Five minutes and then she'd do it.

She collapsed on the chair and slumped down, slouching over the desk, resting her head on her arms and closing her eyes.

Where was Olivia anyway? She was almost always at her desk at this time of day. At least, she was all the times Erin had come here.

She didn't visit the precinct everyday. In fact, it was a somewhat rare occasion. But today Delilah wasn't going to be home with her. She had miraculously convinced Olivia to let her to hang out with some friends despite being in trouble for sneaking out to the movies.

Plus, she needed to get out of the house for awhile. Desperately needed to. She felt suffocated under that roof. Olivia was still acting a little cautious around her ever since the night of her nightmare. It had gotten better from that first day. At least she wasn't on the same level as a priceless, porcelain antique doll anymore. She had worked her way up to moderately priced décor vase.

She realized that being at the precinct still put her around Elliot and Olivia both, but it also felt like a place of action. A place that wasn't padded. A place that wasn't going to protect and shield her. She needed to get back into the swing of things. First step school and now this.

Well, not that she'd really had a choice otherwise. She knew that despite being pampered she was still skating on thin ice. No, she hadn't formally been reprimanded. Olivia had kind of pushed that under the rug considering the circumstances. She had snuck out in the middle of the night, and she definitely didn't want to push her luck…but she guessed that wasn't really the point anyway.

She yawned and frowned when she felt something poking at her elbow. Looking up she realized it was a staple. Sloppy stapling job. Elliot must've done this one. _Geez, _she thought, _now I'm even poking fun at Elliot to myself. Poor guy._

Truth was her sarcasm and taunts towards Elliot were all in good fun. She really did like having him around. He reminded her of her father. All the best parts of him, of course. She missed him like crazy. No, they'd never really been close, but being many miles away made her understand how homesick she could get. All of her brothers, as annoying and crazy as they were, were never far from her mind. She made a mental note to call them later tonight. As much as she loved life in New York with Olivia and Delilah, she knew a part of her would always be with her biological family. A piece of her belonged there too. She knew she was doing right by being here now, but it still ached at times. The fact she couldn't always have the best of both worlds.

She made a move to shove the files over in case she accidentally happened to fall asleep on them…she didn't really want to bring her embarrassing drooling habit to notice of the entire 1-6.

She tilted her head at the title of the file. Gordon Reich. She opened it curiously.

And then it dawned on her.

This was about the Stanton case. The Gomez case. This was about Fernando.

She swallowed and took a deep breath, quickly reading through the files, stuffing as much information into her head as she could. Names, accusations, details all sticking to her brain.

She was good at this.

She rushed to organize all the various details in her head.

Ming Li. Rita Garcia. Oboe lessons. Wealthy. Ivy League. Strict. Traditional. Hands. Bruises. Sharp marks. Dropped accusations.

She looked into the window. One look and she knew it was him.

She ran the story over in her head one more time, perfecting the idea, becoming someone else, and stood up, taking a step in the room's direction. The right direction, she convinced herself. The necessary direction.

Erin knew what she had to do.

**Uh-oh, suspense! Thanks for all the reviews so far, guys! The support on this story is mind-blowing and ridiculously inspiring. *Does embarrassing happy dance.* As always, thanks for all your feedback! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. =) So let's keep that up, shall we? I think we shall! So review, and have a great day! Until next time, much love. ~TheTBone**

** Please notice if you find any grammar errors, and I'll correct them right away. I want my writing to be top-quality, but unfortunately my proof-reading isn't always bulletproof. Pesky little typo pellets penetrate my work every once in awhile…darned things…**


	9. Interrogation

**In a fanfiction universe, trying to pass off a show as your own is considered especially heinous. On the internet, the dedicated writers who borrow characters and write fictional stories about them are members of a website known as fanfiction dot net. This is my story. *****Chung chung***

She opened the door in the most demure way she could manage, the quiet entrance serving the purpose of fitting the role and not arousing the attention or suspicion of anyone else in the precinct. She flitted in, trying to make herself look girly and vulnerable, but also smart and driven. She was thankful she still had her uniform on, for it was a perfect costume to her clandestine undercover role according to the manuscript she'd just devoured on the desk.

"Oh, hello there, sir," she greeted with a smile, biting her tongue from flying off the handle at the possible suspect up close.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his arms crossed, sounding angry at the imposition the young girl had obviously set forth.

"Juliette Odessa," she said, resorting to her undercover name during the pageant. "And you?" She asked, sticking her hand out, batting her lashes in that way she saw girls do in movies when they tried to get what they want. Hopefully she looked seductive and shy rather than stupid and seizure-prone.

"Gordon Reich," he introduced himself in a skeptical manner, taking her hand with reluctance. "Why are you here? Look a little young to be a cop," he said brashly.

"Oh," she said with a sophisticated giggle, "I'm no cop. I just came in here to talk."

"Why are you even at this station in the first place? Here to make a complaint against an innocent man?" He inquired bitterly. "You women are all the same. Can never trust you. You're filthy backstabbers, the whole lot of you."

"I'm not here to do that," she reassured.

"Then tell me, what _are _you here to do?"

"Just waiting on my father."

"Oh wonderful, you're a policeman's brat. You here to rat me out if I look at you funny? Come get daddy to protect you if I eye you wrong, princess?"

"I'm not like that."

"Right. As much as you want to say that, you can't convince me otherwise, all you people are the same. You think you have a badge or know someone who does and you run the world. Well let me tell you something, honey, that's not how it works, or at least not how it should."

"You're right. I absolutely agree with you. Which is why I'm telling you the truth when I say I'm just here to chat. In fact, I'm a bit insulted at your assumption. I'm not like the rest of them, really I'm not. I've seen too many fine people get put away, and I want no part of that. Too many people make false accusations, I've seen that firsthand, but we're not all the same," she tried to persuade the man to give her a chance. "So are you going to believe me or sit here and act like a coward who's scared of an adolescent girl because she's related to blue?" she asked. She knew acting like this was risky, but she really wanted to instill confidence that she wasn't bluffing with Reich.

"Oh, so you're a feisty one?" he asked, a smile passing his lips for the first time since she'd arrived. She was breaking him.

"Only when I want something. You in?"

"Not so fast. How do I know you're not just some ploy to relay back everything I say or do? How do I know everyone's not out there right now, watching this go down, waiting me to screw up? Because that's apparently what I do now," he spat bitterly.

Erin laughed, "Oh trust me, there's no one out there. And this room is sealed. The microphone's not on, and this is a pretty secluded little area. These walls are thick. No one's spying on this place," she said. And that part was true. From the outside, just casually passing by, you might not know anyone was in here. There were several interrogation rooms, and this one was in one of the more isolated parts of the precinct, in the mostly-deserted back zone.

"How do I know you aren't lying?"

Erin let out an exasperated breath. "You walked back here, didn't you? You know where we are in location to the rest of the rooms. Do you have a short memory, or are you just stupid?"

"Excuse me young lady, I'll have you know-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she quickly apologized. "I didn't mean that. I just-I've got a lot on my mind and I really wanted someone to talk to. I thought you might want to hear it, you know, being non-objective and non-judgemental and lonely in here and all, but whatever. I can see you're not in the mood to chat," she said, making a move for the door, hoping he would stop her.

"Wait."

Jackpot.

She turned back around, flipping her hair as she did so. "You up for conversation?"

"I suppose so, but don't be getting lippy. Mouthy isn't attractive on pretty young things like you."

"Understood. So let's talk now."

"About what?" He squinted his eyes.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Anything really. Truthfully, I just came in here because I needed a break from," she motioned towards the door, "all of that."

"And what would 'all of that' be?" He asked, now curious as to what the pretty little girl was saying.

Erin shrugged again. "I don't know. My family, my school, my life. There's always these expectations, these rules, you know? Which are important, and they're vital to succeeding, just…sometimes I feel like no one really cares how they affect _me._ They set all of these things out, but never really care what I want. I just feel like there's no personal payoff," she said, attemping a musing tone. "Oh, I'm so sorry; I must be boring you to death talking about all of these things. How selfish of me."

"No, no, don't stop. I find your situation…fascinating," he said, taking the bait and shifting positions so his head was in his hand, his elbow propped on the table.

"Oh, well, there's really nothing more to say or complain about," she said at a sudden loss.

"Well that's all right. Tell me about yourself. What kind of schooling are you receiving?"

"I go to St. Jonathon's," she stated, improvising, getting the name from thinking about Munch.

"Very impressive. What do you study?"

"Oboe. I'm a senior this year, and I'm planning on auditioning for Julliard in a couple of weeks. It's kind of expected at my house, all of my older siblings have gotten in, and both my parents went there. That's where they met. My father was a brilliant concert player, and my brother is following in his footsteps this year."

"They must be very proud of all your accomplishments."

Erin shrugged and glanced out the window, taking this moment of melodrama to make her move. She sighed as she sat on the table, inches away from Gordon whose eyes widened and sparkled at the closeness, his nostrils enticed by the scent of her youthful perfume. "I guess," she replied sadly, her head drooped in a sullen form.

"Aw, what's the matter, sweetheart?" Gordon asked, suddenly softening up as she crossed her legs and her skirt inched up slightly on her leg.

"Oh, nothing. I shouldn't be complaining. Not to brag, but I've achieved so much. Sometimes I just feel worthless. Like I work and work and keep getting all of these things, but no one's ever satisfied. I know it's silly…"

"Pumpkin, it's not," he said, shifting himself in his chair to edge closer to the teen.

"I just don't ever get to develop any meaningful relationships. I'm not close to anyone romantically or otherwise, so where's the payoff in that respect?"

Gordon knitted his eyebrows and pouted out his lip in mock-understanding, nodding in false concern. Erin had to give him props, he was quite convincing. If she'd have seen him anywhere else in another context, she might have thought his pity to be real. Of course in retrospect, with all the knowledge she had on him, his nice-guy persona was all kind of shot to hell in her mind, guilty or not.

Seeing the look in his eyes, one of anticipation for her to continue, she decided to play him even further, try to see what other buttons she could push.

She sighed. "Sometimes I wish I had some personal support. Someone who could be my friend, but also teach me about the real word. I feel like I'm trapped in this bubble, and at times I don't want to be."

"That's natural," he practically purred, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She felt the sudden contact and flinched slightly from the touch. She didn't expect it, and cursed herself for not seeing it coming and being unable to keep her discomfort under wraps.

Gordon gave a chuckle at the shudder. "Don't be scared."

"I-I'm sorry. I just-" she tried to use the slip to her advantage, playing the nerves card.

"Shh," he held out a finger, gently touching her lips. "I understand. Nowadays you're all trained to be so cautious, so careful, so programmed into expecting the worse in people. Seeing evil in everything. But don't worry; I want to help you fix that."

"How?" she asked in a whisper, Goosebumps covering the surface of her skin from eagerness and fear. This was a rush, knowing that she could potentially be helping solve a case and gaining insight and evidence to put a guilty man in jail. But with the rush and strife for justice came a price. Anxiety was now starting to bubble to the surface. What the hell was she doing? Why was she doing it? What was going to happen to her?

Her questions were interrupted by his answer, and she realized that if she turned back now all of her previous efforts and strides would be in vain. She was in far too deep to try and get out. There were only two ways she was leaving: she'd leave when she was done, or someone would have to drag her out. Because chickening out now would be more dangerous than playing along.

"I may be able to be of your service."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe I can help you. Your…predicament is very familiar to me. I've worked and successfully cured many of the same things you're feeling right now. Abandonment. Loneliness. Stress. It's a lot to bear. And you're not nearly strong enough to do it on your own. Not even close. Which is where I come in. I can heal you."

"But how can you fix me when I'm so broken?" she asked, instantly wanting to face palm at the cheesy line. She was seriously about to screw this up. Although, looking at Reich, he seemed to like cheesy, for as soon as the words left her mouth, he grinned yet again.

"I can fix anyone. You can be as good as new, if you trust me. Are you ready to trust me?"

"Of course," Erin submitted, clenching her teeth and gulping, keeping the panic in her throat, sealing her lips so the alarm could not present itself out her mouth. She needed to come off desperate. She closed her eyes and realized that she was desperate in another way. She was desperate for the truth. She _had_ to do this. _She _had to do this. She had gotten everyone into this mess. It was her fault. And now she had to make it right. And if it took some creep ogling at her for a couple of minutes, it would be worth it.

"Excellent," he said with satisfaction. "But I must warn you of one tiny little detail first. A small rule."

She let out a puff of a sigh at this proclamation. "Another rule. Just what I need. Why should I trust you if you're just like them?" She asked, upset. She was going to make him work for this, to show how desperate he was, how pathetic she could make him seem.

"Baby, trust me. I can make all of your problems go away. There's just a set of conditions. Please, my darling, just agree. They are just for my sake. Surely you can make one small sacrifice for me in exchange for everything I am offering you, hm?"

She forced her lips into a crooked, bashful smile. "All right, I suppose."

"Very well," he replied, "the only condition is that you may not go back on your word."

"What do you mean?" She asked, sincerely confused.

"Once you agree to this, you agree for good. There's no taking back your agreement, or there will be consequences."

"What kind of consequences?"

"Grave consequences. You don't want to know."

"But-"

"Let's just say you don't want to end up like the last sorry lot who disobeyed me. Those Garcia and Li bitches. Boy were they sorry when I got done with them."

"I don't understand, what did they do wrong?" She asked, disguising her outraged tone in a timid one.

Reich sighed, obviously upset at the pause in his plan. "They turned their back on me after I gave them everything I had. All I was doing was helping them, and they go and squeal on me, after everything I did for them," his eyes got hard as if reliving the memory. He kicked a chair down and pounded his fist on the table in rage and frustration. He steadied his breathing as he looked back down at Erin. "But you look too sweet to do anything like that to me. You're a good girl, aren't you Juliette?"

Erin managed a trepidation-ridden smile.

"Don't you worry, just behave yourself, and everything will be fine," he said, placing a hand on her leg. "I can make everything better."

"Gordon, what-"

"Shh," he said, closing his eyes, and brushing a hair out of her face. "It's okay."

He placed the other hand on her collarbone and massaged her neck.

She closed her eyes.

She was in deep.

SVU SVU SVU

"Well, is there anything else in his file that we can potentially bring up again? Anything shred of evidence that hasn't been dropped?" Cragen asked, folding his arms in frustration. This guy was suspicious, too suspicious to let back out. But if the situation didn't warrant any formal charges, his hands were tied.

"Not that we found, Captain," Olivia replied, rubbing her neck in irritation.

"Not even a parking ticket? C'mon, there has to be something."

"I'm afraid not. We didn't find anything in his file that stuck."

"Then look harder. If you think that this-"

Cragen was interrupted by the sound of a crash, followed by a pound that echoed throughout the precinct. Each of the detectives stopped their fidgeting and focused their attention on the door, and then on each other. All of them had that same, questioning, concerned look in their eyes, and they shifted simultaneously from their seats to venture out to find the source of the racket.

"It came from the right," Elliot informed.

"Probably Reich's room. It sounds like he's throwing a tantrum in there. What is he, two?" Olivia spat, annoyed, while jogging down the hallway along with Elliot and Cragen. Babysitting criminals was not her favorite past time - especially when they threw impromptu hissy fits.

Elliot cracked his neck before throwing open the door, prepared to chastise or calm the man from injuring himself of the furniture in the room. However, upon seeing the sight of him and Erin in a compromising, and uncomfortable, position, he went from seeing the scene to seeing only red. Before Olivia, Cragen, or superman could stop him, he went charging. He became a raging bull, a rabid horse just out of the gates.

He sprinted through the small space and knocked Gordon off of Erin with one swift, hard, tackling blow.

"You son of a bitch," he gritted through his teeth, his face already turning a bright, crimson hue. "You absolute son of a bitch! You are a piece of work, you know that? I ought to take you out right now," he seethed in a dangerously low whisper, pinning him to the hard, concrete wall by his shirt collar. "I have the mind to strangle you at this very second!" he hollored, slapping a hand onto his neck, slowly curling his fingers tighter and tighter around his throat.

"Elliot!" Cragen bellowed, yanking him off the man by the back of his shirt. "Come on, let's go," he said half-heartedly, knowing it was his job to stop Elliot from doing anything irrationally violent. However, he secretly wouldn't mind watching him beat up on this one. He had seen exactly what Elliot had, and he understood his reaction. He'd never admit it, but in the moment, if Elliot hadn't beaten him do it, he would have done the same, or at least been extremely tempted to.

With the fabric of Elliot's shirt still in his hand, Cragen quickly surveyed the scene to see if it was under control.

Gordon was still up against the wall, clearly in shock from the events of the past few seconds. He wasn't going to try anything any time soon.

Elliot was still shooting him a death-glare, physically shaking from rage; his hand balled up into a fist, but wasn't making any move to pounce. Every couple milliseconds, he'd shift his scowl from Reich to shoot a concerned glance at Erin, still on the table, her eyes wide and alarmed.

And then there was Olivia, who had made her way closer to the table, but was momentarily at a loss for what to do. She was frozen in place, not moving or making a start to do anything. She made the face he knew well, though. The one that was quickly gathering and sorting information, concocting a game plan in her mind.

Mostly satisfied at the progression of events, Cragen opened the door and ushered Elliot outside first, praying he wouldn't come in and attempt round two.

Eying the still stationary Erin, he walked over to the table and calmly reached out his arm. Noticing the cue, Erin took his hand with a slight, thankful smile. The Captain merely nodded in return, and helped the young girl up off the surface. The table made a creaking sound as she stood, only it sounded like thunder in the otherwise noiseless room.

He put a supportive hand on her shoulder, and gently nudged her from the room as well. Two down, one to go.

He then spied Olivia, her faced changed from determined to something he rarely saw from her: terror. Her eyes conveyed she was petrified, and rightfully so considering what she'd just witnessed. Though they didn't often verbally relay personal information to one another, he knew more about her than he let on. He could read her like an open book, and so he knew that this new role had not been an easy transition for her. But he also knew her strengths, and was certain that she could do this. Sometimes she just needed a little push to be reminded.

"Olivia," he placed a fatherly hand on her back, "you should probably go talk to Erin now," he suggested.

Olivia nodded, and allowed him to lead her out of the concrete room to join the two others he had already directed out.

The four of them stood there for a moment, all just looking at one another, wishing they could read the others' thoughts.

It appeared that Olivia would be the first to break the silence, opening her mouth to speak, but instead changed her mind at the last second, clamping her mouth shut before uttering a sound.

Instead she wordlessly seized Erin's arm, escorting her to the second level of the precinct. While climbing the stairs, Olivia mulled over her options, finally deciding this was a conversation best suited for one of the versatile rooms, one she occasionally used for casual chats with witnesses and watching surveillance videos into the wee hours. It had a table, a couch, and a couple of chairs, making it more comfortable than the dismal interview rooms, but more private than the squad room.

She held open the door in order to usher Erin inside, shutting it immediately once she made her way in. As the door clicked, she leaned her hands against the door for a moment, taking a second to close her eyes and regroup.

"Are you okay?" She asked solemnly, her back still turned away.

"I'm fine," Erin replied, non-emotional except for a small shake in her voice.

"Really fine?" Olivia asked, shifting her attention to the girl.

"Yes," Erin said in the same tone as before.

Unconvinced, Olivia crossed her arms. "Take off your sweater."

"What?" Erin furrowed an eyebrow.

"Just do it," Olivia ordered.

Erin complied, lifting the navy fabric off and tossing it onto the couch, standing there in her white, button-down blouse.

"Arms out," the older woman instructed, scanning the appendages, checking them for marks of any kind. "Flip them over." Content to find no major bruises, gashes, cuts or scratches on her exposed limbs, she grabbed a chair. "Sit," she demanded. Casually complacent, Erin took a seat.

Olivia hesitated, but, figuring it was better to be safe than sorry, walked behind Erin and lifted her hair.

"What are you doing?" Erin deadpanned, wondering if Olivia had gone crazy.

"Making sure you don't have any life-threatening injuries you're not telling me about," she said, surveying her neck in the same fashion as her arms.

"Well thanks, but it's not going to be necessary," Erin joked light-heartedly with a slight smile.

"Look, either I can do a quick once-over or we can go to the hospital, your choice," she retorted harshly.

"My bad," Erin replied softly. Why was Olivia snapping at her?

Once she was satisfied that nothing appeared to be in immediate medical danger, Olivia got up from her formerly kneeling position and walked to the front of the teenager.

"So you're fine, right? Nothing's broken, nothing's bleeding, nothing's bruised beyond repair?"

"Not that I know of…"

"And other than that you're okay, right? He didn't get too far or anything?" She asked, absolutely hating having to ask that question.

"No."

"Good," she said quickly. "Good. Now." She repeated, pausing for a deep breath. "Now do you mind telling me just what the hell you were thinking?"

"Listen, Olivia, I'm really sorry about-"

"No," she replied simply in a stern manner.

"But-" Olivia held out her hand to stop the protest, shaking her head with an inarguable firmness that Erin had never witnessed before.

"Not this time. Sorry isn't going to work right now. Sorry can't work. You've used up all of your sorry's. Your chances, they're gone now," she said, solidifying the announcement with a prompt hortizontal motion of her hands.

"Whoa, hold up, what are you talking about?" Erin asked, putting her hand out in defense.

"Are you serious?" Olivia said with a dry laugh. "You just walked in a room with a potential killer, Erin. You can't just do that."

"I was doing what needed to be done," she justified.

"You are not allowed to do this," she pointed at Erin, ignoring her last comment. "You cannot continue this behavior of jumping the gun and-and putting your life in danger!" Olivia yelled.

"I can take care of myself," Erin said evenly.

"No. No you really can't. And that naivety makes me very clear that you can't."

"Listen, I don't know why you're freaking out at me, I was trying to help."

"Oh my God," Olivia whimpered helplessly, collapsing onto the couch, putting her head in her hands.

"What?" Erin asked brashly.

"The fact that you're sitting here, and that you honestly believe that you did nothing wrong scares the hell out of me."

"Look, I can see why you're upset and all, but I still don't see the big deal. I'm capable of holding my own. I've done things like this before."

"No, you haven't," Olivia said with conviction.

"Okay, then what do _you_ want to call last spring?"

"That was different."

"How?"

"I was there, Elliot was there, there were numerous precautions and you were protected," she cleared.

"So, what, on my own I'm just a weak little damsel in distress?"

"Erin-" Olivia grunted in frustration.

"What?' she shrugged heatedly. "That's basically what you're implying," she accused, taking offense to her insinuations.

"You cannot keep prancing around into the middle of all this. I can not and will not allow it! Period!" Olivia screamed, finally losing her ever-present cool and leaping off the couch.

"I'm already in the middle of it!" Erin followed suit, jumping up as well.

"Then get out of it!"

"I can't do that!"

"Well you're gonna have to learn to! This isn't just your problem anymore! Keep this up, and you could soon very well have my job on the line!" she jabbed her pointer towards the door.

"I don't have a choice!" Erin cried helplessly.

"You're right!" Olivia yelled, stopping herself. She needed to start acting mature, get herself under control, and handle this rationally. "You're right. You don't have a choice anymore. Consider yourself grounded."

"You can't ground me for something I felt like I had to do," she defended angrily, lowering her voice as well.

"Oh really?" Olivia questioned, raising an eyebrow, daring her defiance. "Watch me," she said, not taking her eyes off of the younger girl.

Erin crossed her arms and matched her hard look, also determined to win the battle of wills. "How long?" she asked. She was too smart to disagree further, but too stubborn to give in completely.

"As long…as I feel is necessary," Olivia stumbled. She hadn't really given much thought to that. It kind of just flew out of her mouth.

"What, I can't even get a number? Even prisoners get a general idea of when they get to be released from jail," she sassed.

"Fine. Three weeks," Olivia replied, still engaging in the stare down.

"That's crap."

"Four," Olivia responded without missing a beat.

Erin held her tongue for fear of hearing "five, six, seven, eight."

They continued eying each other with rigid willpower.

"Whatever," Erin finally caved, looking away for the time being.

Olivia gave a slight nod of her head, acknowledging the conversation to be over. She turned to walk out the door before Erin's voice stopped her.

"Permission to speak?"

"Fine," Olivia spun back around, arms folded across her chest.

"Do you really think I wanted to go in there? I mean, do you honestly think in my head I said 'hey, how about I go set myself up as bait for a potential sexual predator, that sounds like a dandy way to spend my afternoon'?"

"It doesn't matter _why _you went in there; the fact is that you did."

"Okay, but do you honestly think I wanted to piss you off?"

"You didn't piss me off," Olivia admitted, slowly making her way over to where Erin was still standing. "You scared me, kid," she said with a small humorless laugh to keep herself from tears. "I mean you really, really had me nervous standing in there," she took another chair from the table, setting it next to Erin's. "If something would have happened in there, if you'd become like one of those victims I see everyday," she folded her hands and shook her head, trying to shake the images from her mind, "I don't know what I would have done," she confessed, looking over her shoulder to hide her face, allowing a single tear to fall.

Erin finally gave a sigh, uncrossing her arms and collapsing on the chair again, putting her face in her hands. "I know. And I really am sorry for worrying you. But you've got to understand - I had to do it, Olivia."

"No, you didn't," she said, still firmly, but without sharpness.

"All right, well at least I _felt _like I had to do it. I just-he deserves the truth. His family deserves closure."

"I know," Olivia said gently, "which is why you should let _me _handle it. You know I'll do everything to get him justice."

"But that's just the thing! I can't, I can't just…just sit on the sidelines. I can't just let him get away with it."

"He's not going to get away with it, but throwing yourself into the line of danger isn't going to make it any better."

"How do you know that?"

"Because, I've been doing this a lot longer than you have, and I will guarantee you that sacrificing yourself is not going to help this situation in the slightest."

"It might. It would have if I'd have done something earlier," she said the second sentence more quietly, biting her nail and looking at the wall.

"No. What do you mean?"

"If-if I'd stopped him, from going, if I didn't say I had to leave to talk to Chris, maybe he wouldn't have gone. Maybe he'd still be alive."

"What are you talking about?"

"On the phone," she started to tear up. "The night Fernando died. Chris came, and I told him I had to go. And I hung up, and after-" she gulped a breath, her voice wet with tears. "It doesn't even matter anymore. It's too late now. But it wasn't too late then. And I let it happen."

"You think this is your fault," Olivia said with sudden realization. It all made sense now. The details of the nightmare. The obsession with getting justice herself. It all fit. "Erin, no one's blaming you."

"_I'm_ blaming me!" she pointed to herself, jabbing her chest with her thumb.

"No one thinks you're guilty here," Olivia shook her head.

"But I _know _I am!" she cried hysterically.

"But listen, honey, you aren't," she made sure to make eye-contact. She really needed to hear this. The guilt could eat someone alive. It was almost more lethal than despair, feeling responsible for the horrendous happenings of another. "You can't think that. You can't keep blaming yourself for something out of your control or you'll go crazy."

"But what if I didn't hang up? What if I could have saved him?" Olivia listened to her illogical, fruitless questions, running one hand through the girl's hair and the other over her eyes to clear the tears. She did this to comfort both the girl and herself. In order for her to explain, she herself would have to revisit a memory, still a relatively fresh wound in her mind.

"You have to stop thinking about the what-ifs. Trust me, babe, it does no good. No matter how many times you run scenarios through your head, you've got to understand that you can't stop the horrible fate of someone else. That you couldn't have if you tried. I would know."

"How?"

Olivia blinked and took a breath, ready to relieve the painful memory for the sake of the damaged girl beside her.

**What do you think she's going to tell her? Sorry if this felt like an awkward splitting point. I was very torn on whether to break it up here or not. In fact, I was so concerned that I legitimately resorted to asking a magic 8 ball app. Not even kidding. ("Should I cut this chapter off here?" "The results indicate: yes.") And who am I to dare question the magic 8 ball? No one! **

** Love you all and your continued support! Thanks a zillion! Please tell me what you thought about this chapter! Feedback is my crack! (Whoa dude, that rhymed…)**

** Every time you review an angel gets its wings! =)**


	10. Jello

**I own SVU on days that don't end in "y."**

"Her name was Sonya Paxton. I first met her a couple of years ago when she barged into the middle of one of Elliot and my interrogations," she said, cracking a slight smile at the memory. Sure, at the time she was pissed, absolutely livid at the woman prancing in and ruining a perfectly good interrogation, but she could laugh about it now. Sonya never really did know boundaries. Or at least, she never did anything to let people know she respected them.

"She used to be an ADA for our unit. I worked with her a few times, quite a few times, actually. She was a good lawyer. No, a _great_ lawyer. She was brash, impulsive, and stubborn as hell, but she was damn persuasive. And confident. More like cocky, now that I think about it. Arrogant in herself - her instincts especially. She had strong opinions on everything under the sun," Olivia reminisced.

"Didn't that ever get…I don't know…obnoxious?" Erin inquired. She didn't want to be rude, but she couldn't help herself. That sounded absolutely nightmarish. And Olivia seemed open for response, so she gave it a shot.

Olivia laughed. "All the time. She grated on everyone's nerves. Especially liked pushing Elliot's buttons. You could almost see his blood pressure rising when she was around. She could get him riled up like you wouldn't believe by just being in the same room as him."

"That actually sounds slightly hilarious," Erin responded, picturing Elliot tensing up by the woman's presence.

"Oh it was. Only other person with that power besides her was Babs Duffy," she smirked.

"Who?" Erin tilted her head.

"Another story for another time."

Erin accepted this response with a nod.

"Don't get me wrong, she was irritatingly strong-willed, but that's what made her a fighter. She had her problems, some of them big. They got her into a mess of trouble," Olivia said, suddenly seriously again.

"Like what?"

"Well, other than the fact that she would get overly involved in some of her cases," she emphasized this point, pausing to glare at Erin, "she drank. No, that's not right. She didn't just drink. Thing was she was a drunk. And she let that alcohol define her, classify her into the general pool with the term of 'alcoholic.' When everyone found out, she wasn't an accomplished lawyer anymore. That's not what people knew her as. When her secret was out, she went from ADA to addict in everyone's minds overnight."

"How did you find out?"

Olivia let out a breath. "Um, I guess technically when I was ordered to give her breathalyzer in open court."

Erin's eyes widened. "Whoa," she managed to get out.

"Yeah. And trust me, I felt really classy and not awkward at all escorting my drunk coworker out past the judge, defense lawyer, and media outside. It was just heaps of fun," she said sarcastically. "Her reputation was ruined overnight, in and out of court."

"Was she fired?"

"Temporarily, yes. That, the mixture of humiliation, and court-ordered rehab forced her to get her life back on track."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, well, that's not really the point of the story though. About a year after that happened, I saw Sonya again. She was working a cold case on the side with this woman, Alicia Harding."

"Wait, the 'Neighborhood Predator' chick? From that TV show?" Erin asked.

Olivia gave her a surprised look. "Yeah, you know it?"

"Oh my god yes," Erin replied as if it was obvious. "I watch, like, marathons of that show. Alicia kicks ass. Did you get to meet her?"

Olivia laughed at the enthusiasm. "Uh, yeah, I did."

"That's so awesome," she grinned. "Okay, sorry, that was really rude; I just had a fan girl moment. Continue, I promise it won't happen again," she waved her hand and blushed momentarily at her outburst.

"It's all right," Olivia reassured, still amused by the obscure obsession and excitement over the reporter. "Anyway, she was working a case with, well, your idol apparently," Olivia joked, and took a short pause. She wasn't looking forward to this dismal turn of tone, but understood the necessity of it. "It was the murder case of Alicia's little sister. Sonya had been working it from the beginning, gotten close to the case and the people included in it. Years and years they worked it. And that took a toll on Sonya. A big toll."

"Drinking."

"Mhm," Olivia affirmed, nodding and pursing her lips. "She needed some escape. She had no family, no real friends, so she turned to booze to handle the stress. All those years of dead ends and frustration," Olivia shrugged, and her mind began to wander.

The memories began to blend. The gravestones morphed together, creating a monster in her mind. The hole in her heart opened and her throat swelled shut with sadness.

She had put up such an excellent wall of defense. Her fortress was bulletproof. She'd padlocked her feelings, and now the baggage was confused. Why would she unlock this box? Why would she let everything loose and release it? Why would she use the combination only she had against herself? It was emotional suicide. "It was her way of dealing with everything that had happened."

She had to get this story out before the old feelings returned. She'd dealt with it; she understood that this had nothing to do with her. That she just had the unfortunate luck of finding her in that state – helpless and vulnerable beyond repair. She cleared her throat to rush the words, messily tie up the moral and be on her way, shove those feelings back inside and do one of the two things she did best. She'd deal with it in private, or she wouldn't deal with it at all.

"The case was messy; it was all so complicated. It happened so fast. Sonya eventually solved it, but she lost her life in the process. He attacked her on the bathroom floor at one at those damn AA meetings. She lived long enough to tell me she'd got him; she swallowed a hair for DNA, and then died right there. And the thing was: I couldn't do anything about it. She was helpless, I was helpless, and it was too late, so I felt personally responsible," she confessed.

And she did. She did feel personally responsible. But not because she had walked in on that incident, but because she hadn't seen it coming. Either time.

"She couldn't handle it. She had no one. No one saw. No one did anything about it." Olivia said quietly.

The room was silent. Maybe even the world was absolutely and totally quiet, neither of them would know the difference. It sure felt like it in this small little box of a room. The once perfect space now felt like a fishbowl to the both of them; small and void of air.

"They didn't have to die," Olivia whispered. She was caught up. Her current surroundings had disappeared, and it was like she was on a time machine; a ride she couldn't get off of. The courthouse. The bathroom. The news. The body. The grave. The blood. The blood. The blood. That damn blood was everywhere and it clouded her vision, it stuck and clung and was nauseating.

It didn't go without notice the plurality of the statement. Erin knew now. She'd fit it together. It couldn't be clearer if she was in Olivia's brain herself.

They had never discussed it at length. In fact, it had almost been in passing.

But Olivia had revealed it, and Erin wouldn't forget. She couldn't forget. Something so vital and heavy and real.

But she heard it on the swings at the park on that cold winter night. After she'd run away. But now the world was tilted, and they were stationary on the ground. And Erin wasn't the one running away.

"It's not your fault Sonya died," Erin said. That's the response she knew Olivia wanted. That's the part she had wanted to emphasize. Olivia nodded robotically. She was still staring at the floor, battling those thoughts, in her own little world, her private hell.

Olivia had been there for her. Sure, she was older. She was wiser, and more experienced, and taken on that mothering role. But now Erin had that pang, that instinct of protectiveness and comforting. She stood up and walked over to the older woman, detached and dismissive. She was trying to do the right thing, just like Olivia had done for her. But this wasn't easy. Because truth be told, Erin was terrified.

She was more panicked by the look in Olivia's eyes than the look in Reich's. This was such unfamiliar territory she was attempting to conquer; she had no clue what the right way to go about it would be. And so she guessed. And if she was wrong for saying it, and Olivia lashed out against it, so be it. Because she was desperate at this point, and she'd try anything.

"It's not your fault your mom died either," Erin whispered, biting her lip.

Erin did not know what to anticipate from the statement, and so she kept her eyes downcast and herself available, just standing there, mere feet away.

Olivia's head snapped up. She was speechless. She had been called out. How could she have known? She didn't expect Erin would read between those lines. She never would have guessed she'd have remembered. Not in a million years would she have thought Erin would make those connections.

"When did I-" Olivia started, her voice hoarse.

"The park," Erin said simply, her eyes still staring at the ground. She was afraid to look up.

"How did you-"

"I just knew."

"But I-"

"I know you better than you think. You're not the only one who pays attention, you know," Erin managed a small smile, daring to glance up. She swallowed back the winces at what she saw. Her eyes were red and tear filled, her hands shaking, her face pale. But even with all of those features, and all of those feelings that were no doubt still racing through her heart and veins, Olivia did what she always did. She managed that small little smile. And as shaky and slight as it was, it was still reassuring to Erin.

Her throat was tight and burning, and she didn't think she could speak a coherent word for the time being. So instead, she reached out her arms and curled her fingers. Thankfully, Erin understood the motions and comprehended the gesture, closing the distance for an embrace.

"Thank you," Olivia said in a quivering voice, still engaged in the hug. "I…I needed that."

Erin smiled sincerely on her shoulder and shrugged. "No problem."

"Ugh," Olivia pulled away, wiping at her eyes, and then returning her hands to Erin's shoulders, "I'm sorry. I didn't expect to break down like that."

"Hey, don't say that. It's fine. Everybody needs a moment once in awhile."

"But you shouldn't have to take care of me like that. I apologize for putting you in that position," Olivia grimaced, grateful she was there, but embarrassed at the prospect of it all. She hated pity, and wasn't too fond of comfort either. Even worse, it was comfort from a girl more than twenty years her junior, which she thought strange and awkward on some level.

"Oh please. 'I don't have to; I want to. You know better than to think I wouldn't want to help you. I'm always here if you need to talk,'" Erin stated as if reciting a memorized fact.

"Gee, that sounded convincing," Olivia said dryly.

"It's quoted. Does it sound familiar? It should since you're the one who said it. So stop your freaking apologizing. This is a two-way street here, all right?"

"All right." Olivia accepted this answer, truthfully happy she heard that. She may not believe it in the fullest, but knowing someone knew helped. Knowing it wasn't a secret anymore was freeing. Knowing she wasn't completely alone took a great majority of the burden from her.

"Good," Erin said, satisfied.

"Good," Olivia repeated.

"So, am I permitted to eat with you tonight?" Erin asked, trying to lighten the mood with her unique wording on the evening's food selection.

"I suppose I could throw you some scraps. What are you thinking?" Olivia smiled at the joke, glad that they were on okay terms again. She felt lucky they had survived their first real fight, which ended up lasting about a grand total of twenty minutes.

"I'm feeling the Mexican. You?" Erin suggested.

"Tacos it is," Olivia agreed.

And so they both got up, and simultaneously walked out of the room. Everything would soon be back to semi-normal, and the entire conversation they'd shared was already hidden deep within themselves, never to be spoken of again, the room's walls the only witness.

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"When's the last time we did this?" Erin questioned, generously coating a tortilla chip with salsa, casually sprawled out on the couch.

"Did what?" Olivia asked, dipping her own chip as well.

"This. Just sat together eating horrible, awful, amazing food and watching this equally horrible, awful, amazing show?" she explained.

"I don't know. It's been awhile."

"A long while," Erin said with a twinge of sadness.

"As in too long of a while," Olivia agreed.

"I kind of missed it…"

"Me too…"

"Then why don't we do it anymore? Just both of us. God knows we're superior to the other mere mortals, why do we even bother to associate with them?"

"Because this house is more crowded now," Olivia laughed. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we've adopted two new ones into the club. There are a couple of additions to our group. Think hard. Ring any bells?"

"Oh right, the rookies are to blame. Damn rookies."

"Stupid Freshmen."

"I guess they're kind of lovable though."

"I wouldn't mind keeping them around in our mix."

"Permanent mix?"

"Yes."

"Lifetime mix?"

"Correct."

"So you admit that Elliot Stabler is going to be in your mixture of lifetime?" Erin raised a suggestive eyebrow.

Olivia opened her mouth to retort only to be caught off-guard and without an off-handed remark. "Walked right into that one," Olivia mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Erin asked in an annoyingly, overly-high voice to match the annoying, overly-big smile to go with her annoying, overly-smug attitude at the moment.

"Nothing," Olivia replied, matching her tone.

"Mhm," she made an unconvinced sound. "So anyway, back to the matter at hand…"

Not knowing how to reply, Olivia settled for her default response. "You know, I think your fixation with my love life is becoming obsessive," she playfully accused.

"Oh please. You're telling me that's the _best _response you could come up with?"

"I'm serious!"

Erin scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Plus, it's not my fault you two are adorable."

"Your intent interest on the subject is borderline stalkerish and already went past the line of being inappropriate."

"Hey, I don't assign soul mates; I just do my best to enforce them."

"Whatever. Go get me some more iced tea," Olivia commanded, nonchalantly holding her empty cup out without taking her eyes off the television.

"What? No. Get your own iced tea."

"I don't want to."

"Well neither do I."

"You're grounded, remember?"

"Yeah, I'm grounded. That means confined to the premises of the house for any activity not related to education, the good of humanity, or a major emergency without permission. It does not, however, mean I'm your slave."

"Not slave. Just servant."

"I'm not a servant either!" Erin stated indignantly.

"Fine, fine, you're not a servant."

"Thank you," Erin crossed her arms.

"I'll call you a maid instead."

"Olivia," Erin rolled her eyes and looked over, irritated.

"Erin," Olivia matched her tone, but wore a look of self-righteousness. She still held the cup out, and shook the glass with anticipation. She couldn't help but notice the ice clinking and chiming against the glass sounded like a servant's bell. This might not be as horrible as she anticipated. In fact, milking this could possibly be even slightly amusing.

"Ugh," Erin finally gave in, grabbing the glass from her hand and stomping up. "Why do you have to be so unconventional? Why can't you just send me to bed without supper like a normal parent?"

"First of all, that would be the norm if we were living in 1920. And second of all, feel free to stop eating now and go to bed. More tacos for me," Olivia shrugged, unwrapping a chicken-stuffed tortilla.

"Fatty," Erin muttered teasingly while opening the fridge.

"Shut up, peasant! Allow me to stuff my face in peace."

"Here you go, master," Erin said sarcastically, handing the beverage to Olivia.

"It's actually queen to you," Olivia corrected, taking the glass. "But thank you, humble servant. Now run along and make a dress out of stray fabric with your mice and dwarf friends."

"Those companions are from two different movies. They aren't interchangeable."

"They are if the queen says they are."

"You are so beyond exasperating."

"Well, you know my motto: I aim to exasperate."

"You're making good on that, that's for sure," Erin smirked, flopping back onto the couch. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before an obnoxious buzzing interrupted the lovely, content quietness. Erin groaned and picked up the object from the side table, tossing it to Olivia before sinking back into the sofa again.

Olivia sighed and flipped open her phone, throwing it up to her ear. "Hello? What…but this isn't…you're _where_? Oh, kid, what…_what_?! Why the hell would you…ugh…yeah, yes, I'm coming…I'll be there soon…bye," Olivia grunted, slamming the phone shut. "_Shit,_" she cursed, gritting her teeth while she severely combed a hand through her hair, contemplating whether to drag Erin into this at the moment. She stood up, and decided she didn't want her eldest to be a part of this yet.

"You're leaving? You couldn't even stand me for more than a few hours. Dang, you must really hate me," Erin kidded.

Olivia didn't reply, instead occupied her time just standing with her arms crossed, an intense, focused look in her eyes.

"Uh-oh. What did I do now?" Erin joked.

"Nothing. Delilah, well, she's another story," she fumed.

"What happened, is she okay?" Erin stood, suddenly concerned.

"Oh yeah," Olivia said, her voiced dripping with sarcasm. "She reassured me she's fine, she's good, it's all okay, except for the fact that," she took a mocking surprised breath, "oh yeah, she's in a goddamn prison cell!" she emphasized the last part with fury.

"What?!"

"Seems as if Delilah got herself arrested for trespassing," Olivia smiled humorlessly, her eyes far beyond simple anger. She seemed almost irate.

"I thought she was just spending a night at a friend's house running lines, how the hell did she get arrested?!" Erin asked lividly.

What the hell was she thinking? First, she committed an obvious, serious crime. But more importantly, she landed herself in jail. Jail was a scary place with scarier people. The kind of people that should not be around a twelve-year-old girl. Erin got uncomfortable just thinking about what could happen. That had to be the epitome of stupidity. Erin would give Delilah no sympathy for enduring Olivia's wrath. Sure, she realized that maybe she was, in fact, a hypocrite, but she was a caring hypocrite with an abundance of sisterly instincts, dammit!

"Good question! Luckily we will soon have the answer, because right now it's freaking midnight and I get to go pick my adolescent criminal home from the local jail, where I will probably know some of the officers and staff. I'm excited, can't wait, let's go since I hardly contain how enthused I am," Olivia replied.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Erin asked innocently, fully prepared to join the older woman. Or get her a drink. Or a massage. Really anything at this point to calm her down or even to avoid her rage. Olivia was beyond furious, that much was clear. In fact, Erin wasn't really sure she should be allowed to operate heavy machinery at this point in time.

"No," Olivia took a deep breath and shook her head. She had to stay calm. She didn't know what happened. There could have been a very good reason Delilah did what she did. There could be extenuating circumstances. But regardless, she had to stay calm. She couldn't freak out, and she had to keep an open mind. Well, as open of a mind as she possibly could when her pre-teen was in central booking. "No, I got this," she said. "I'll be back soon," she stated, opening the door. "Stay here or I'll make your death look like an accident later," she warned, turning back around and pointing an advising finger before yanking on her coat and slipping out the door.

_First Erin and now this. This day just keeps getting better and better_, Olivia thought.

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Oh. My. God.

She was in jail.

She, Delilah, was sitting on a bench in a freaking jail cell. A locked jail cell! A hard, extremely uncomfortable bench in a locked little concrete room that real criminals like rapists, and thieves, and drug dealers had probably sat in.

Oh, gross, she needed some hand sanitizer once she got out of here, pronto.

Hand sanitizer, and soap, and water, and a shower to wash off all of these nasty real-criminal germs.

Oh my god. Now she _was _a real criminal. A real, hardened criminal. Okay, so maybe she wasn't completely hardened yet, after all, she'd only been sitting here a little over an hour, but still! She would forever be branded a law-breaker, a hoodlum, a juvenile delinquent when she got out!

That is, _if _she ever got out.

Sure, she'd called Olivia as soon as she got her chance for her phone call, and yeah, Olivia had said she'd be on her way. But this seemed like it was taking quite a long time.

Maybe Olivia wasn't going to get her out. Maybe she thought that it would be better if Delilah learned her lesson the hard way before she came back to the house. Maybe she wouldn't want her coming back to the house at all and be left to rot in jail for the rest of her life. After all, Olivia seemed very sensitive to the law, and she seemed to be rather fond of enforcing it.

And she was allowed to enforce it considering the badge and the gun. Well, not that Olivia would shoot her, she was way too civil for that, but still she had the means to! But what about the other cops? Oh my god! What if she would have to be guillotined liked in _The Tale of Two Cities_?! Wait, they outlawed that barbaric practice ages ago, right? And it didn't matter anyway, that book took place in England. She was thankful she wasn't a British criminal.

No, no, she wouldn't be put to death for something as minor as this prank. This stupid, horrible, not-even-worth-it prank that all of her friends thought would be just such a fun time. Of course, all of her friends had already been bailed out long ago by their respective nannies and maids who held no other purpose than to serve the family of the rich and powerful. She remembered those days. She didn't miss them, but right now she kind of wished it would have been that simple.

Back in her old life she could have been just like Marilyn or Dawn or Ginny or Madeline. She could have had her worker-of-the-week pick her up, bail her out quickly, and make the issue quickly go away because of the power and money that the infamous Jones Empire had held in their community. There would have been no consequences. In fact, her parents probably never would have had to find out. Call the house phone and your employee picks up. They couldn't discipline you – they worked for you. You owned them.

You weren't doing anything wrong as long as you didn't get caught. And even if you did, chances were it wouldn't really matter anyway. It had happened countless times back then. Not to the extreme of being arrested, but she'd been in her fair amount of trouble by the law's standards, but there'd never been consequences. Not ones with any real weight or merit at least. But that was then and this was now, and well, this would most likely go a little differently.

Now, ugh, now she had no idea what to expect.

Olivia would be mad, that much was certain. Who wouldn't be? Delilah wouldn't blame her for being mad. But she was nervous. What was going to happen to her? Would Olivia even talk to her again? Would she yell at her for hours on end? Make her do nothing but chores and housework? Write lines? Flogging? Push-ups? Or worse, would she kick her out of the house? Give up on her all together and realize she'd made a horrible mistake by taking on a kid too stuck in her old ways and damaged to change? Was there a return policy on adoptions? It'd been less than four months living with her, and she'd already gotten herself arrested. Great going, Delilah. You were finally happy and you've blown it. Kissed it all good-bye. All for some popularity and gelatin.

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It had been a quick process. Pretty painless, really, at least compared to what they imagined it might be like that in their irrational mindsets of the time.

Olivia had simply walked in and talked to the arresting officer, who escorted Delilah out of the holding area. He'd explained that 'it was a normal high school disturbance,' and that the country club 'wouldn't be pressing charges just so long as there would be no trouble with the girls again.' The allegations would be dropped, as it was their first time being involved in behavior such as this, so he'd 'let them off with a warning.'

To be honest, it was all kind of a blur to the both of them. They were too busy looking at each other…then looking away from each other…then staring…then not daring to make any eye contact whatsoever.

The officer nodded and released them, telling the two to make sure 'nothing like this ever happened again' and that 'he didn't want to see them in a place like this.' Olivia faintly remembered thinking this was ironic considering her profession, but then everything quickly blended back into its dream-like reality.

They both got in the car, buckled their seatbelts and rode together in silence.

There was quiet.

And more quiet.

And more quietness suffocating them.

Deafening, agonizing silence, the excruciatingly loud sound of not dealing with anything and absolutely nothing getting done.

Olivia was focused solely on the road in front of her while the right window received Delilah's undivided attention.

They climbed the stairs and went down the hallway without saying a word until they reached their apartment.

Olivia opened the door for Delilah.

"Thanks," she whispered, slipping through the door.

Olivia nodded a "you're welcome," before taking off her coat and slinging it over a kitchen chair and glanced at house.

Everything was almost exactly how she left it, besides the absence of the remains of their dinner and Erin. She figured the teen must have straightened up while she was gone. She contemplated confirming her presence, but figured it was safe to assume she was holed up in her room when she heard the faint sound of the television coming from her quarters.

She should say something now, right? Or do something. But what? She was lost. Very lost. A moving picture caught her eye, and she realized the television was on, playing a 'Friends' rerun. It was on mute, but everything was still happening. Sort of like in her real life. She couldn't remain silent forever. She had to start talking, voicing something, or nothing would ever make any sense. _Just start talking. _Olivia told herself. _Just form words. It doesn't ever matter what they are; any words to start a conversation would work._

"What's wrong with your hair?" Olivia asked.

_Oh my god. __**That's **__what she chose? Whatever, try and go with it. _

"What?"

"Your hair, what's up with it?"

"Oh. Madeline did it," she said, running a hand over her head, trying to remember what it even looked like. "I thought it looked kind of stupid, but Madeline assured me that this was an 'in' thing this fall," she said, pulling out the buns on either side of her head.

"Not stupid exactly. Just, very Princess Leia. Is Madeline a 'Star Wars' fan?"

Delilah gave a skeptical look. "Does Madeline _look _like a 'Star Wars' fan?"

"Good point. And if she is, may the force be with all of us."

Delilah gave a small snicker; Olivia returned it with a small smile.

Olivia's smile faded, and her face got serious, but remained soft. "What happened tonight, Del?"

"I was an idiot."

"Well I got that part, but what _happened _happened. What did you do?"

"I was hanging out with my friends."

Olivia stifled a scoff. Sounded like a great group of friends. However, she let Delilah continue without interference. "Which friends?"

"The ones from school. And Madeline," she bit her lip as she revealed the latter one.

"As in Madeline Anderson from the pageant?"

"Yeah."

_Great. _"Okay, go on."

"They said they wanted to do something crazy and spontaneous. So we decided to pull a prank. We didn't want to hurt anybody, we just wanted to have fun," Delilah tried to defend her actions.

Olivia wasn't exactly buying it. "What prank?"

Delilah sighed, and opened her mouth to speak before spying Erin creeping through the kitchen. Erin must have felt the eyes on her, as she turned around.

"Sorry, ignore me, just wanted to get a water and I'll be out of your way," she awkwardly apologized.

"It's fine. Feel free to evacuate your room if you want," Olivia said casually, and motioned Delilah to go on.

"The jell-o prank," Delilah mumbled.

"Come again?" Olivia asked in confusion.

"The jell-o prank," Delilah repeated.

"What the hell is a jell-o prank?"

"It's basically where you buy a bunch of boxes of jell-o, and pour it into a swimming pool so it turns to all gelatin," Delilah explained.

"You're kidding," Olivia deadpanned.

"No…"

"Where do people come up with this stuff?" she wrinkled her eyebrows in disbelief.

"Stupid people came up with it," Erin took a sip of her water.

"Excuse me?" Olivia redirected her attention.

"This prank is totally old-school and totally dumb. It usually doesn't ever work; there are too many factors you have to rely on to get the jell-o to actually form. Usually you just end up with a bunch on powder in water, so it's pretty lame. I mean, you have to have the right temperature, the right powder-to-water ratio, the right time constraints; it's really a complicated prank. Only really awesome people can pull off a good jell-o prank," Erin said with a proud curving of her lips, her triumphant look fading when she remembered who she was speaking to. She spied an opened-mouthed and slightly awed look from Delilah (she could sense some respect) and a raised eyebrow-shocked combo from Olivia.

"I mean, it's not like I'd know _first-hand_," she explained. "Of course not. It's just…you know, basic science, and common sense, and I read things…on the…internet," she stumbled. "You know, I think this is really a personal conversation, I'm just going to go to my room now," she gave one last awkward laugh before ducking back into her room.

"Anyway," Olivia cleared her throat and looked back at Delilah. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you do it? I mean, you had to know you'd most likely get caught. It was the freaking country club for God's sake; those people have security cameras everywhere."

"I know, I know, it was dumb. I was a complete idiot. I just wanted to fit in with them. Thought I actually could."

"Is that what this is about? Fitting in?"

Delilah shrugged.

"Del, listen, I'm sorry if you feel like you don't fit in with your old friends anymore. I know living here isn't exactly what you were used to with your mom and all, but-"

"It's not about that, Olivia," Delilah quickly corrected. And it wasn't. Money _wasn't _the real issue. And if it was, Delilah honestly wouldn't care that much. She didn't really miss anything. Sure, a personal chef was nice, and yeah, she liked having an indoor pool, but this was a million times better. No, this wasn't a rich people thing, or a power thing, this was just a her thing. She didn't fit in. She would never fit in anywhere, no matter how hard she tried. And that hurt more than if it was about money.

"Then what is it?" Olivia struggled to understand.

"I just- I feel like I can never fit in with them. I'm never going to be a part of their group, and it just sucks, because I try and I try, and it never happens for me." These were the people she was supposed to want to hang out with, right? With these girls was where she belonged, no matter what she had to do to be with them. No pain no gain, that's what her mother had always told her.

"Is that such a bad thing, hon? I mean, I know you try; you try so hard to please everybody else, and to hang out with them. And trust me, I get it. I get the appeal of the popularity and whatnot, but is that honestly what you want? Don't you want friends that you don't have to try with? Because friendships aren't supposed to be that hard. Not real friendships at least."

Delilah nodded, though she still wasn't fully convinced. Who else was going to take her or accept her? Especially like she was now. "Yeah. You're right I guess. I'm just not ready to give up on them, you know? I just feel like we could be friends if they give me a chance. But I guess that really isn't an option anymore, is it?" she asked sadly.

Olivia sighed. She could see that insecurity creeping back in. Delilah returning to her old unconfident habits. And that killed her. But she knew she had to let her make some choices, and maybe some mistakes, because that was part of her growing up. Allowing a little of that, and then being there afterwards was part of being a good parent. "Look, I'm not saying you can't hang out with them. That's ultimately up to you. I'm not trying to control your life, or tell you who you can and can't be friends with. All I'm asking is…think about what I said, okay?"

"Okay," Delilah promised. "And thank you. For trusting me. Even after all of this mess. Nothing like this will ever happen again, I swear."

"Oh, you're damn right it won't. And you're right that you won't be hanging out with them for a good long while. Trespassing? That's a big no-no, all right? So you are grounded, on an indefinite and currently undefined length-wise basis. Oh, and you and Erin are cleaning out the mudroom tomorrow," she said off-handedly.

"Whoa, what?" Erin asked, storming out of her room, eyes widened.

"Oh yes, didn't I tell you?"

"Um…no!"

"Sorry about that. Well I'm telling you now."

"Why do I have to help? I didn't get arrested," Erin said, earning her a glare from Delilah.

"Doesn't matter," Olivia scoffed. "You're still grounded. Which means you're still being punished. Tomorrow. Six sharp."

"As in six in the morning?" Delilah winced.

"But why?" Erin whined.

"Because you're going to need the whole day tomorrow, and I have work at seven, so I can give you instructions for the first hour or so, and then when Elliot and I get off work, he can come home to his very own space, and I won't have to have dealt with any of it," Olivia smiled.

"But it's like one thirty right now," Delilah looked at the clock.

"That's only like four and a half hours," Erin put it into perspective.

"Four once you take brushing our teeth and changing clothes into consideration."

"So it is. Well, you'd better get to bed. Sleep tight, ladies, you've got a big day ahead of you," Olivia said sweetly, making her way to her room, grinning victoriously as she left.

Erin and Delilah shared a loathing look.

"Well this sucks," Erin stated.

"I'm never going to be able to eat jell-o again," Delilah said sadly before frowning and walking to bed, ready to end this day, but not quite ready for the inevitable quick-coming of the next.

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Sorry it took way longer to get this out than I expected! Just started school (which unfortunately has to come first), so I've been busy trying to get in the swing of things for that. Again, I apologize profusely! I swear I'll try to never to make you wait that long again! =(

But as a gift for sucky updates, here's an actual quote from my outline for this chapter. Hopefully you enjoy it. I was feeling pretty gangster this day apparently…: Olivia and Erin be chillin' with some tacos, yo! Then Liv's gotta go pick up Delilah from the penitentiary! Yowzas! She and her homies be trippin' trying to put some Jell-o in da pool. What kinda fools does that shit?! Madeline-dawg also be in Delilah's gang of fresh homeskillets! Liv's so angry she 'bout to slap a hoe. But she don't, cuz she cool. Now Erin and Delilah are both grounded and gots to clean out da mudroom for Elliot. C'mon man, dat ain't fly, forreal!

Hey I just updated

Please don't be lazy

So push that button

And review maybe!

**Grammar errors are mine and mine alone. Please point them out if you notice them and I'll correct them lickety-split! I want this to be the best possible quality!**


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